


To You, From the End of the World

by Cerona



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: 2020 au, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Childrens Collectible Toy Gimmicks, Drama & Romance, Fighting, League of Legends references/elements, M/M, Mystery, Slow Burn, Urban Fantasy, self-indulgence at its finest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerona/pseuds/Cerona
Summary: All Martin really wants is to live his life the way he wants to and to confess his feelings to Rasmus. But when strange dreams plague his sleep and impossible events begin occuring all across Berlin, he's thrust into a new role where all is not as it seems and dangers lurk at every corner.The wheel of fate turns. Armed with a strange sword and magical shards that grant him the power of Champions, Martin is determined to decide its direction for himself.
Relationships: Marcin "Jankos" Jankowski/Mihael "Mikyx" Mehle, Martin "Wunder" Hansen/Rasmus "Caps" Winther, Mihael "Mikyx" Mehle/Luka "PerkZ" Perković, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 50
Kudos: 91





	1. Prologue: The Day the Stars Were Shot Down

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome everyone!
> 
> This is something I've been working on for a while, so I hope you all like it! If you do, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. I appreciate all feedback that comes my way. The plan is to post weekly, and I will add new tags, warnings, and characters as the story progresses.
> 
> I hope you all have a nice day!

_As the world came to an end, the last man on earth watched as the light faded away from the eyes of his dearest friend._

_Gently, he set his friend down upon the soft snow. The man did not go quietly into the night. He fought and struggled to his last breath, his tattered clothes, litany of fresh wounds, and the sword he still clutched tight in his hand a testament to that fact, but in death he looked almost peaceful. If he squinted through his tears, he could almost imagine that his friend had a smile on his face._

_With trembling hands, he closed his friend’s grey eyes for the last time. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Of all the people that could and should have made it to the end, it shouldn’t have been him. He should have died a long time ago, giving his life to pave a path for his friends and teammates. Instead, they had fallen one by one, and he was useless to save them. The only reason he kept on going was to ensure that their sacrifice was not in vain and to protect the ones still standing, but he failed even at that._

_And now? They had reached the peak, and for nothing. They had given their lives for him, a man who had no use for the ultimate prize that waited. Dammit, it shouldn’t have been him._

_It shouldn’t have been him._

_The sky flashed. He looked up to see the clouds parting, revealing the night sky and a giant ring of light that encircled the mountain, stretching out just beyond his vision. This was what they had fought so hard for. All the deaths and all the fighting. All the blood, sweat, and tears. It was for this._

_The ring of light made no sound, nor did it change its shape, but he understood what it wanted. As the last man and final victor, he had a wish, and that wish must be made before this world met its end._

_Refusing to use the wish was out of the question. He had the blood of forty-nine people on his hands, forty-nine hopes and dreams that he crushed under his heel, and to reject that wish would be the epitome of cruelty. He might as well spit on their graves._

_But even then, he had no idea what to wish for. He had no deep desire, no dreams of his own. He couldn’t care less about riches, or prestige, or control over the world. To think, that the man who had cut down countless dreams, dreams that their dreamers had fought for to the bitter end, had none of his own._

_He looked down at his friend. It should have been him. He had his wish planned out and prepared in great detail, one that came from the depths of his heart. How could he have ever hoped to compete with that. All he had ever wanted in his life was…_

_Yes._

_Yes, that’s it. That has to be it._

_It could only ever be that._

_He clutched the crystal in his hand, the final piece required. His friend’s final gift to him._

_“My wish,” he said, lips chapped and voice coarse. “My wish is…”_

Martin’s eyes shot open. His muscles seized and blood rushed to his ears. All he could hear was the loud drumming of his heartbeat. For a brief, frightening moment he panicked. Where was he? Was someone in there with him? It was only after his eyes adjusted to the darkness that he recognized his own room at the G2 house, and that he was completely alone in here.

He sighed, almost deflating, and all at once his body relaxed. For the longest time, he just stared up at the ceiling and controlled his breathing, letting his heart slow down to the point where it didn’t feel like it was going to burst out of his chest. He brought the back of his hand up to his forehead and felt a slick sheen of sweat despite the Berlin winter.

That was the second time this week he woke up like this, and he had no idea how many this one would make if he counted the last few months. Ever since his lost at the Worlds final last year he had had trouble sleeping every few days, all because of these weird ass dreams that he couldn’t even remember.

Try as he might, his dreams seem to fade away just a few seconds after he woke up, leaving him with nothing but echoes and an empty feeling in his chest. His mother suggested (after some considerable convincing) that he keep a dream journal, but it sat now in the drawer of his bedside table, as empty as the day he bought it.

These little incidents never bothered him per-se. It wasn’t like he needed to get up early in the morning, and he could usually go back to sleeping like a log after waking up, but something about tonight hit differently. Tonight, the maw in his stomach seemed deeper somehow, hollower. And for all his efforts to clear his thoughts and keep his eyes shut, he found himself glaring a hole into the ceiling.

Sighing, he swung his legs off the bed and sat up. Maybe a glass of water would do the trick.

It was still dark outside, but Martin was certain that they were well into the AM, which was confirmed with a quick peek at his phone. Seeing the date, he let out a groan from deep inside his chest. They had a photoshoot for LEC today in the morning, and with what little sleep he got tonight he’s going to look like an oversized raccoon.

Gently, he pushed open his door, wincing at every small creak, and poked his head outside. As expected, the apartment was dark and deathly silent. A queasy feeling settled in Martin’s stomach. He would never admit it to anyone, let alone to his annoying teammates, but the silence unnerved him. It had never bothered him before back when he was at Splyce, but Splyce didn’t have Jankos’ incessant screaming, or Luka tuning his guitar, or Rasmus’ cringy dad-jokes that made Martin laugh all the same. He did, in fact, used to love peace and quiet. Was this what Stockholm Syndrome was like?

He ducked into the bathroom to spray water on his face. The cool water was a shock to his system, ridding his head of cobwebs and knots. One look at the mirror confirmed that, yes, he did look like a furless trash panda. Probably less cute too.

After a drink of water, Martin made his way back to his room, praying to whatever God out there to at least give him an hour of sleep before morning. But just as he reached for the doorknob, he noticed a light emanating from the gaming room. Martin blinked. _Is someone still playing in there?_

A tiny bit curious and, let’s be honest, having nothing better to do anyway since sleep was probably not coming, Martin went to investigate. The room was still dark, illuminated only by a singular monitor, and when Martin saw which station it was, he felt a little stupid. Of course, the only person in this house that was still playing at such an hour could only ever have been him.

“Rasmus?” he asked softly, placing a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. His midlaner – well, ADC now – jerked in surprise, but when their eyes met and recognition settled in, Rasmus calmed down.

“Wunder?” Rasmus asked as he took off his headset, blinking up at him. He too had bags under his eyes, but on him they had the audacity to look kinda cute, much like an actual panda. “Give me a few minutes, I’m almost done with my game.”

Just as he said that, he was hooked by a Nautilus, sniped by a Caitlyn, and eaten by a Cho’gath. When the surrender vote came, four green bars lighted up before Rasmus could so much as hover over ‘no’. The nexus exploded in quick fashion, and Rasmus was kicked out to the result screen.

“Limit testing?” Martin asked, somewhat amused.

“I’m always limit testing,” Rasmus joked as Martin took a seat next to him. “So, what are you doing still up? Did I wake you?”

“No, I just—” he didn’t really want anyone to know about his sleeping problems just yet. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Things were stressful enough with the role swap as it is, he didn’t want to bother his team with his personal issues, let alone some weird-ass dreams. “—needed to pee. What about you? Why are you still playing at, like, four in the morning?”

“It’s four already?” Rasmus took a glance at his computer’s clock to confirm that it was, in fact, four in the morning. He let out a nervous laugh. “I guess I must have lost track of time.”

Martin squinted at the smaller boy. “Rasmus…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you even move from your chair since we finished scrims?”

“I did.” Martin just stared at him with a blank look on his face, and Rasmus wilted with a toothy smile that _may_ have made his heart beat a little faster. “To get dinner and go to the bathroom.”

“You know we have media day today, right?”

“Tomorrow,” Rasmus corrected.

“No,” Martin said, stretching out the O. “It’s today.”

“Tomorrow isn’t today if I haven’t gone to sleep yet,” Rasmus said with the smile of someone completely confident in his answer. This was clearly some lame attempt at humor, but even knowing that Martin chuckled anyway.

“I just wanted to get a few more games in, you know?” Rasmus explained. “Practice my Aphelios a bit more.”

“But still, four in the morning?” His fellow Dane’s dedication to League was nothing new, but this was something else. Not going to lie, it had Martin a little bit concerned, especially after they had agreed to take things easy during the spring split. “Luka’s going to kill you when he finds out, you know that, right?”

“I know, it’s just…” Rasmus bit his lip and fidgeted in his chair. “You saw how badly I’ve been doing in scrims, yeah? And the split is just a few weeks away, so I thought I’d catch some extra practice.”

An absent, pessimistic part of Martin wondered how much that had to do with the fact that they scrimmed Fnatic today.

“Well you’re not going to improve like this,” Martin stated, reaching for the mouse and scrolling through an entire page of Defeats in the match history. The other boy knew how to hide his tilt well, but Martin had spent enough time around him to know better. “You need to take a step back. Reset yourself. Like, you know, by sleeping.”

Rasmus chuckled in shame, and Martin swore it sounded like chimes in the wind. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He turned off his PC and stretched his arms. “I should probably get some sleep before the shoot. Wouldn’t want to go in there looking like a panda.”

“It’s a good look on you though,” Martin mumbled under his breath.

“Hm. Did you say something?”

“Nothing!” He hoped the darkness covered his flushing cheeks. Rasmus tilted his head to the side, clearly perplexed. “What was your plan anyway if I didn’t come in? Play until the sun comes up?”

“I would have stopped,” Rasmus defended, pouting as he put away his mouse and keyboard. “…eventually. Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time I—”

But whatever rebuttal he had died at his lips when he turned to look at Martin. Or, more accurately, look past Martin. Rasmus’ eyes widened to the size of saucers, and curiosity, with a smidgeon of annoyance, got the better of the toplaner. He turned around to check out what was so interesting and—

Oh.

Rasmus slipped past him and ran up to the window, his mouth gaping in amazement. “A meteor shower! Wunder, Wunder, look!”

Martin didn’t waste much time and joined the smaller boy. It was a tight fit, his chin grazing the top of Rasmus’ fluffy hair, but he managed to take a peek through the window all the same. And just as Rasmus said, stars were falling from the sky.

One after another, star after star, they rained down upon the Berlin skyline. Thin streaks of light that carved wounds into the sky, only to fade and give way to darkness in the next moment. They fell by the tens, the dozens, illuminating the night with a soft, tender glow.

The sight was enough to take his breath away, and yet some part of him can’t help but feel like something was wrong. A meteor shower in Berlin? They couldn’t even see stars here most of the time. And wouldn’t people have made a big deal about it online if there was going to be one?

Martin was about to dive deeper into this rabbit hole when he felt a hand clasp his wrist and pull him along. If he had been alert and aware he wouldn’t even have stumbled at this (not to brag, but he wouldn’t have budged at all), but it’s Rasmus so he let himself be pulled along anyway.

“Rasmus?” he asked as he followed the other boy’s lead through their apartment. “Where are we going?”

“To the rooftop!” Rasmus chirped, and Martin found himself befuddled by how this boy still has this kind of energy at _four in the morning_. “We can get a better view up there.”

“At this hour? Rasmus, it must be freezing up there.”

“When else are we going to get to watch a meteor shower?” Rasmus asked as he put on his ratty pair of shoes. “From our home, no less! Come on, if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss it.” And with that, he bolted out the door and ascended the stairs two steps at a time. Martin rolled his eyes. The ADC couldn’t handle a standard two-mile run without having a heart attack afterwards, but when it comes to the things like this he could run faster than a cheetah without breaking a sweat.

For a moment, Martin considered just going back to his room. Rasmus would be too dazzled by the sights to notice his absence anyway, and he sorely needed the sleep. But still, it was _Rasmus_. And as juvenile as it may sound, the lights were pretty.

_Ah, what the hell._

He found the ADC sitting in front of a roof ventilator, head tilted up to the sky with a look of wonder on his face. Martin couldn’t blame him, the view was amazing, but his own gaze was not locked at the sky. Gently, he joined his fellow Dane on the rooftop floor, careful not to disturb him from his trance. The light from the falling stars enshrouded Rasmus in a faint, silver halo, and Martin found his breath stuck in his throat.

“It’s beautiful,” Rasmus said with a toothy smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, forcing himself to exhale. “Yeah, it is.” He turned his gaze towards the sky. Despite his teammate’s concerns earlier, the meteor shower showed no signs of stopping. Streak after streak, the stars fell. Lines of light dying as suddenly as they were being born. He normally wasn’t one to appreciate nature all that much, but Rasmus was right. This was beautiful. It made him feel small, insignificant in many ways, but he found that he was strangely fine with that.

“Have you ever seen something like this?” Martin asked.

Rasmus shook his head, eyes still fixed on the falling stars. “Never. I didn’t really go out much as a child, let alone somewhere far enough from Copenhagen to see something like this. What about you?”

“My parents used to take me camping when I was a kid, but I’ve never seen anything like this,” he answered, glancing over at the other boy. Rasmus seemed to be satisfied by the answer, and they began to fall into a companionable silence.

That is until Rasmus began shivering.

“Are you cold?” Martin tore his gaze away from the sky to look over the smaller boy.

“A little,” Rasmus replied, teeth clattering.

“I told you it was freezing up here.” Martin made to stand up. “Come on, let’s go get some coats from the apartment.”

“But it could end before we get back!”

“Fine. Then _I’ll_ get the coats.”

“But then you’ll miss it!” Rasmus, still shaking, pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “You don’t have to go down if you don’t need one. I’ll be f-f-fine.”

He absolutely, positively was not. And maybe, if it were any other night, Martin would’ve gone down anyway to get that coat. Sure, Rasmus would be annoyed with him but at least he wouldn’t catch a cold. But something about tonight was different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about tonight just felt _right_. It emboldened him, and made him do something he wouldn’t have had the balls to do before.

“If you don’t want me to go down, then what if we huddle together for warmth?”

Rasmus’ head turned so fast that Martin was afraid that he was going to give himself whiplash. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Y-You know, to share body heat!” Rasmus’ doe eyes were looking up at him with the most befuddled look on his face. If Martin wasn’t already warm before, he was now. “I’m pretty warm myself, so, like, maybe I could give some of it to you?”

Rasmus blinked up at him, and Martin cursed whatever God was out there that gave him the confidence to say such a stupid line. _Huddle for warmth_. What kind of C-tier romantic comedy flick did that move come from?

“Sure,” Rasmus said.

What.

“What?”

“Huddling together,” Rasmus clarified with a small smile. “I don’t mind.”

Someone help him, Martin’s heart was about to punch its way out of his chest. “O-Okay. If you’re sure.”

That was enough for Rasmus. He scooched over and pressed himself against Martin’s side, settling himself so that his head rested on the other Dane’s shoulder.

Martin’s first thought was _holy shit I can’t believe this is happening_. He desperately hoped that Rasmus couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing right now. His second thought was _holy shit, Rasmus is cold_. They had only been up here for a few minutes and already it felt like the ADC was half-frozen. The contact was almost enough to make Martin shiver.

Instinctually, he wrapped his arms around Rasmus’ shoulders, but hesitated when was about to lay his hand on the smaller boy’s arm. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly.

But Rasmus had already returned to stargazing and only gave an affirmative hum in response. With only a small amount of hesitation, Martin rested his hand on the ADC’s arm, just at the point where fabric gave way to skin. He didn’t hold on tightly, nor was his grip slack. He made sure that it was just enough to secure his friend.

Now, Martin was no expert when it comes to love, or on approaching people with that intention, but he knew this had to be some kind of flag. The atmosphere was just right, and it was only the two of them up here. They were cuddling for God’s sake. That had to be something.

_Or you’re just taking advantage of the situation, you creep._

Rasmus wiggled in his arms, and for a moment Martin was afraid that he had made the other boy uncomfortable, but it was only to bury himself further into his toplaner. “Much better,” Rasmus giggled, “thanks.”

Butterflies fluttered from deep within his stomach, and Martin felt his mouth blossoming into a smile. “Anytime,” he replied, and then he too returned to watching the cascading stars. His heart had finally settled, the frantic racing replaced by a steady thrum that matched the rise and fall of Rasmus’ chest. Enshrouded in darkness and encircled by silence, they fell into their own personal bubble. For the first time tonight, Martin felt like he could relax. _I could stay like this forever_.

But soon, far too soon, the stars began to dwindle, and Martin could sense that their time was almost up. Disappointment flushed through his system, but he wasn’t surprised. All good things must come to an end, after all.

Caps shifted in his arms. “I guess it’s almost over, huh.”

“It had to end sometime,” Martin pointed out.

“Yeah, it was nice while it lasted, I guess.” Rasmus’ shoulders slumped, but in the next second they perked up. “I know what we should do!”

“Go back to sleep?”

“Later,” Rasmus whined. “We should make a wish!”

“A wish, Rasmus? We’re not eight. And that’s for a shooting star, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but when you think about it a meteor shower is like a lot of shooting stars, right? So that means our wishes are more likely to be granted.”

“What sound logic.”

Rasmus nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, there’s no harm in it. And if you won’t then I will.”

“As opposed to I will and you will?” Martin asked, but Rasmus had already closed his eyes shut, his brows furrowing together in concentration. Honestly, Martin was tempted to just stay there and appreciate that cute face for the next few seconds, but Rasmus did ask nicely…

It was only when he closed his eyes too that Martin realized that he didn’t know what to wish for. Win Worlds? Sure, it would be nice, but it’s not like he was going to die if he didn’t win it. He didn’t need wishes to be the number one team in Europe either. Regrets he had very little of, and he had learned to live with them already. Truth be told, Martin was perfectly content with how things were going in his life. Sure, there were a couple of things he’d like to change, but just staying like this with Rasmus, playing video games and hanging out with the gaggle of clowns he called his teammates and friends. He wouldn’t mind if this lasted just a few more years, especially considering how careers in esports go.

…Heh. When he put it that way, there was only one wish he could reasonably ask for. .. -- / ... --- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

When he opened his eyes, he found Rasmus staring up at him with a one-part giddy and two-part smug grin on his face. “So,” he began, the excitement barely hidden in his voice. “What did you wish for?” .. / -.. .. -.. / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / - --- / ... - --- .--. / - .... . --

It would be so easy to tell him now. The mood was just right, and nobody would be there to interrupt them. They were already cuddling for Christ’s sake; he couldn’t have asked for a better chance! -... ..- - / .. / .-- .- ... / - --- --- / .-.. .- - .

But no matter the yearning in his heart, Martin knew it wasn’t the right time. Not just yet. Call him a coward, sure, but he wasn’t ready to be rejected just yet. If he had to commit one perfect night with Rasmus to memory, let this be it. .. / -.-. .- -. - / .. -. - . .-. ..-. . .-. . / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. .

“A rare drop in WoW,” Martin lied. “We’re running Naxxramas again this weekend and I need it for a legendary staff.” -. --- - / -.. .. .-. . -.-. - .-.. -.--

“Wunder,” Rasmus chided, pouting. “Be serious about this.” \- .... .- - ... / .-- .... -.--

“I am,” Martin laughed even as Rasmus grumbled about once in a lifetime opportunities. “What about you, what did you wish for?” .. - / .... .- ... / - --- / -... . / -.-- --- ..-

“What else is there?” Rasmus asked, all previous grievances gone in a flash. “Win Worlds of course.” .. / .-- .. ... .... / .. - / -.. .. -.. -. - / .... .- ...- . / - --- / -.-. --- -- . / - --- / - .... .. ...

“Of course,” Martin chuckled, ruffling the shorter boy’s hair. -.-- --- ..- / -.. . ... . .-. ...- . / - .... .. ... / .-.. .. ..-. .

Rasmus batted his hand away with a snicker. “Looks like it’s over.” -.-- --- ..- / -- --- .-. . / - .... .- -. / .- -. -.-- --- -. .

Martin glanced up and, sure enough, the sky had dimmed once more, and there was not a shooting star in sight. There was not a single star, actually. Dark clouds that had not been there before hung over them now, and the crescent moon just barely peeking over them. Which, okay, he was no meteorologist, but he knows that’s not normal. Clouds don’t just suddenly roll in over a clear sky, and meteor showers shouldn’t be visible in a city like Berlin. And was that cloud glowing? -... ..- - / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / -. --- - / ... - .- -. -.. / -... -.-- / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .-- / .-- .... .- - / .-- .- ... / .- - / ... - .- -.- .

A tug at his sleeve. “Come on. We should head back down and go to bed now.” \- .... .- - ... / .-- .... -.--

“Oh, so now you want to go to sleep.” .. ..-. / .. - ... / -.-- --- ..-

“I need sleep too you know; I just need less of it.” .. / -.- -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. .- -. / -.. --- / .. -

They untangled themselves from each other and stood up, dusting himself off. “Rasmus, you look like a racoon on a good day. The makeup crew in the studio cringe whenever you come in.” .. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

“Are you sure it isn’t just Jankos?” \- .... .. ... / .. ... / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... . / .... . .-.. .--. / .. / -.-. .- -. / --. .. ...- .

“Well, him too, but the ones that have to work on you get extra cringed.” ..-. --- .-. / -. --- .--

“But what about you, though?” Rasmus argued as they reached the door. “You’re the one that’s always complaining about having to go through make up.” -... ..- - / .. / .--. .-. --- -- .. ... .

Martin reached over to open the door for Rasmus and stepped aside to let the other Dane go through first. “Yeah, but never to their faces,” he shot back, trailing after Rasmus. “They love me—” .. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / -... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .. -.. . --..-- / ..-. --- .-. . ...- . .-. / .- -. -.. / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ...

Someone brushed past him.

Martin stopped in his tracks. For the first time that night, a shiver ran up his spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight, and his chest tightened up like someone had pulled him into a bearhug. A cool breeze wafted past him, but it felt so, so much more than that. So much so that Wunder spun on his heel and called out.

But no name left his lips, and there was nothing there for him to call out to. The rooftop was as he had left it: silent and empty. He tried to say that name again, to reach in and pull it out from the depths of his heart, but no matter how hard he searched he couldn’t find it. The maw returned, a bottomless pit at the base of his stomach that kept dragging him down no matter how hard he tried to climb out.

His cheeks were wet, and the telltale taste of tears reached his lips. Wunder reached up and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. He’s crying. Why was he crying?

“Wunder?” A hand on his shoulder. A pair of grey eyes looked up at him with worry. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Wunder looked away. He didn’t want the other boy to see his tears. Not now, not ever. “I’m fine,” he said, and it was like a breath of fresh air. Martin blinked away the last of the tears. “Something was in my eye.”

Rasmus didn’t look convinced and looked like he was about to argue when something caught his eye. “What’s that you’re holding?”

He didn’t even know he was holding onto anything. Martin unclenched his fist and found a blue crystal no bigger than the size of his pinky finger laying on his palm.

“Whoa,” Caps marveled at the jewel, bending down to get a closer. “Where did you get this?”

“I—” Where _did_ he get this? _When_ did he get this? “—I don’t know. I must have picked it up somewhere.”

“It’s pretty,” Caps said, moving his head around to get a better look at the crystal. “What do you think it is?”

Martin didn’t know that either, but something about the crystal felt off to him. He didn’t know ho and he didn’t know why, but the weight and warmth of the crystal in his hand was far too reassuring for something that had just appeared in his hand.

But he wasn’t about to tell Rasmus that just yet. Not when he still wasn’t sure, so he just shrugged and said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It looks valuable. Are you sure we should keep it?”

“If it is valuable, we can’t just throw it away.” That, and for some reason, Martin didn’t want to part with it just yet. He jammed the crystal into his pocket and jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Come on, if we stay up here any longer, we’re going to catch a cold.”

Rasmus opened his mouth to argue but let out a yawn instead. “But that thing—”

“We’ll figure out what to do with it after the photoshoot tomorrow,” Martin offered. “There’s no use trying to find out what it is now.”

The ADC took one last glance at his pocket before looking up to meet his eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Martin chuckled and reached out to ruffle the other boy’s head again, but Rasmus dodged away and slipped into the door, beckoning him to follow.

Just as Martin was about to close the door behind him, he stopped and took one last scan of the rooftop. He expected nothing, and indeed there was nothing, but the silence that gripped the night was…

_Ah, enough,_ Martin thought. _You need more sleep Hansen_.

Rasmus called out for him again. Martin shook his head, slammed the door shut, and made to follow.

* * *

The door slammed shut, and It stood alone in the darkness.

Unknown to the world and invisible to the human eye, It tilted its head upwards and gazed upon the ring of light. No man could see it, and no machine in this land could hope to detect its existence. Nevertheless, on this night where the stars were shot down, that ring has altered the course of this world irreparably.

The ring of light faded, blinking away, and It too followed. The stage was set, and It still had a few more pieces it needed to play before the show began.


	2. Game 1: Prelude to Ruin

“So,” Miky said without prompting or invitation. “You and Rasmus spent the night together.”

Martin choked on his drink. He hacked and coughed and beat his chest, all the while Miky, the prick, looked on with mirth and did nothing to help him. Once his throat was clear and he didn’t want to stick his head into the ground like an ostrich, Martin ~~squeaked~~ rebuked, “Not like that.”

“Not like what?” Miky asked like he didn’t know what ‘what’ was. “I was talking about you and Rasmus watching the meteor shower together. What were _you_ talking about?”

“Don’t act so innocent.” Martin scowled at his support, setting his water bottle to the side. He had finished his photo session for LEC first and took the chance to chill for a bit. Miky, having gone second, apparently had the same idea after he was done and decided to partake in his favorite pastime: Teasing Wunder About His Crush. “It doesn’t suit you. And nothing happened between me and Rasmus.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” And that was the story Martin was sticking with. He and Rasmus were just, and with the help of a sober mind Martin could properly cringe at this, sharing body heat, nothing more. Would he like to believe that there was more to it? Sure, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up.

“It sure didn’t sound like nothing with the way Rasmus described it.”

“Don’t remind me.” The ADC had gushed about the meteor shower non-stop on the car ride to the LEC studio. Martin was thankful that Jankos was too busy moaning about missing it and Luka was too busy laughing at their jungler’s misfortune that neither of them noticed him going beet red as soon as Rasmus recounted their night. No such luck with Miky though. The support’s attention snapped to him the moment his name left Rasmus’ lips, and with every new detail revealed Martin had to suffer his teammate waggling his eyebrows at him. “That’s just how Rasmus is, though. He could make drinking orange juice sound exciting.”

“True. But I know enough to read between the lines.” Miky bumped their elbows together. “So, did you finally make your move?”

“Has anybody ever told you you’re the worst?”

“You have. Several times, in fact.”

Martin scoffed. “Not enough apparently.” He watched as Rasmus replaced Jankos on the photoset, flashing a bright smile at the camera. “I’m serious. Nothing happened.”

“Seriously? Duuude,” Miky stretched out the word like how he thought Americans said it. “You’ve had a crush on him since, what, MSI last year? When are you going to confess?”

For a moment, Martin considered correcting the Slovenian that MSI was when he _realized_ he had a crush on Rasmus, but then he realized that would be hard inting whatever card he had left from Miky. “I’m still waiting for the right time.”

He had, once, planned to confess to Rasmus just a few months ago after the Worlds Final, but their crushing loss had put everyone on edge.

Miky did not look impressed. “You spent a night alone with him under the stars, watching what might be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and you’re _still_ waiting for the right time.”

“It wasn’t the right time,” Martin huffed, and he wasn’t even lying about that. There were his weird ass dreams again, and even if it was very pretty, the reality of the meteor shower still had his gut rolling for whatever reason. Sure, reminiscing on his moment with Rasmus still brought a smile to his face, but that led his thoughts to the blue crystal hidden in his left pocket.

He still didn’t know what to make of it. He had begun examining it when he was finally alone in his room, but a few minutes later his eyelids grew heavy and Martin fell into the most peaceful sleep he had had in months. He awoke to find the crystal still tucked in his fist, emitting a faint light. Martin didn’t even know why he brought it along today, but it felt _right_ for some reason. Right where it needed to be. He was less concerned about this feeling than he probably should be.

But he shared none of his concerns with Miky. It could still just be nothing, and he would have worried his support for no reason. And for what it was worth, Rasmus kept his lips sealed when it came to the crystal they found which was a feat in itself given the speed at which he talked. Now, Rasmus was a terrible liar, especially when it came to the things that excited him. Martin remembered last year when they were planning a surprise Sejuani birthday cake for Jankos and the then-midlaner spilled the beans not an hour after they placed the order to the bakery (they ended up ordering a Lee Sin cake instead under threat of no ganks for the rest of the season). So, if Rasmus was working hard to keep it a secret, Martin will too for now.

“Besides,” he continued. “I don’t even know if he likes me back.”

“I’m sorry, has all the hours you put into WoW made you blind?” Both their gazes went to Rasmus, who was trying and failing at putting on a serious face. “Have you seen the way he acts around you?”

“Have you seen the way he acts around _everyone_?” Martin rebutted. “And even if he does like me back there’s no guarantee things will work out between us. It’s way too risky for us to be dating when we’re on the same team. I don’t want us to end up like—” He shut his mouth when he realized what he was going to say, but a glance at Miky’s face told him the damage was done.

Gone was the teasing smirk. The support’s lips tightened into a straight line, his shoulders tensed, and Martin could see his knuckles whitening under crossed arms. On the set, Luka finally took center stage.

“Shit, Miky, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Miky interrupted, clipped and strained, his gaze locked on their captain. “It’s in the past now.”

“But still, I know how you feel about him, and you guys weren’t exactly a fling by that point.” Martin raised his hand to clasp Miky on the shoulder but decided against it at the last moment. “Look, if you need someone to talk to…”

Miky said nothing. For all Martin knew, he didn’t hear a word he just said. The support’s eyes followed Luka as the Croatian posed for the cameras, a complete natural in the limelight. Finally, Miky closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and exhaled. When he turned to Martin, the tension disappeared from his face, replaced with a softness that didn’t sit right with the Dane. “That’s very sweet of you, Wunder. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Despite the mood, the toplaner couldn’t help but shoot back, “I can be sweet when I want to be!”

“Could have fooled me,” Miky chuckled. “…But seriously, thank you. And I promise you it’s fine. Luka and I got together for lunch before you all moved back into the gaming house.”

“Wait, you did?” Why was he only hearing this now? “What happened?”

Miky shrugged. “We cleared the air. We had a long talk about where we stood with each other, and he and I agreed that we are better off as friends.”

 _Did you two agree to it, or did Luka agree to it?_ But Martin didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, they watched as Rasmus wrapped his arms around Luka’s shoulder and grinned at the camera while the midlaner schooled his face into an intimidating expression. “Boys, huh?”

“Heh, yeah.”

Miky said nothing after that, and selfishly, Martin was glad that his friend was no longer in the mood to bring up Rasmus. They just stood silently in the corner, watching as their team fooled around on the set, content with not talking about their disasters of a love life.

That was until someone sneaked up on them and threw his arms over their shoulders. “And just how are two of the greatest players in the world doing?”

“I don’t know,” Miky replied, the tip of his lips curling up. “How _is_ FPX doing?”

“Very cute, Miky.” Yamato Cannon patted them both on the shoulder, and Martin couldn’t help but smile. It was always nice to see their old coach. As far away as those days seemed now, their time on Splyce helped them find their footing in the League, and he would never say it to their faces, but Martin still kept those memories close to his chest. “Are you two done with your photoshoot?”

“Just about. We’re leaving for Korean Barbeque after Jankos is done,” Miky answered. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?”

“Ah, didn’t you hear? I’m joining the analyst desk for spring. And as part of the broadcast team I have to take part in making content.” Yamato nodded over to the other side of the room, where Drakos and Ender were busy blowing air into what looked like a giant balloon shark.

“Do we—” Martin blinked. “—do we want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Right.” Martin turned to his former coach. “Hey, sorry to hear your spot in Vitality fell through. How are you holding up?” He knew how much Yamato loved coaching, and he owed much of who and where he was now to it, so to hear that Yamato didn’t get picked up for a coaching job over the offseason was irksome to say the least.

Yamato sighed. “It is what it is, but it’s nothing to worry about. What matters isn’t whether or not we fall down, it’s whether or not we get back up, and I’m quite excited for this analyst desk job to be honest. It provides a new challenge for me to dig into.”

“Going to give a hundred-and-ten percent?” Miky teased.

“Always, Mihael. Always,” he replied, giving the support a firm shake.

“Are you going to look for a coaching job in the offseason?”

“That’s the plan, but…” Just for a moment, the Swede’s eyes looked off into the distance. “We’ll see how things go. Whatever the case, it’s highly unlikely a spot will open up in the middle of the split. I’ll keep my ears open, of course, but I’ll be dedicating my time to the analyst desk so,” he gave the two another pat, “show me good things out there, boys. I want to see just how this role swap is going to go.”

“We did it before and we can do it again,” Miky boasted.

“And hey, maybe in Summer you can do us a favor and replace Grabbz,” Martin offered, and he was only half joking.

Yamato chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll let Grabbz handle herding you animals.”

“That’s kind of toxic, but okay,” Martin said, “Ah well, you’re a great coach. Any team would be lucky to have you on board.”

“That’s very nice of you, Wunder. I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“I know, right?”

“Okay, now that is actually toxic.” It was then that the doors to the studio opened, and another group wearing black and yellow jerseys filtered into the room. Ah, that’s right. Vitality was up after them today. He looked to Yamato and found that his gaze was transfixed on his former team, the smile slipping from his face. “Yamato?”

“Hm. What?” He looked at Martin, and finally seemed to remember where he was. “Ah, right, I should probably go say hello to Cabochard and Jactroll, and it looks like that that’s your cue to leave.” He nodded over at Grabbz, who was waving them over. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you boys. Good luck on this split.”

“You too, Yamato. See you around,” Miky bid farewell.

For a moment, Martin wanted to say more. To reassure Yamato that he was going to be fine. To reach out and tell him that he was a great coach and no one should tell him otherwise. But he couldn’t find the words, so he settled with, “Yeah. See you around.”

Yamato gave a final nod to both of them and left for the group of Vitality players. The two watched as their former coach strode towards his former team, the very picture of self-assuredness.

“Are you worried about him?” Miky asked.

“You’re not?”

“It’s Yamato, if anyone can bounce back from something like this it’s him.”

“Yeah, but he’s never gone a split without coaching before,” Martin pointed out.

“The man has enough self-confidence to blot out the sun, and not in a cocky way like Luka, or hell, you do sometimes,” Miky reassured him. “He’ll be fine.”

That did not reassure him at all. “A lot of people are fine today apparently,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said let’s get out of here, I’m starving.”

“Of course, you are. I swear, it’s broken how you can eat so much junk food and still be so fit.”

“The secret is to actually go to the gym instead of watching,” and Martin retched, “ _anime_ all day long.”

They shot barbs back and forth as they joined up with the rest of the team and made their way towards the studio’s exit. The hallways were packed to the walls now that a new crew was moving in to handle the Vitality shoot and the old crew was shuffling out as well. Martin felt like he was a tuna stuck in a sardine can, trying to navigate through a sea of people. Not to toot his own horn, but he was doing a decent job for someone his size. He didn’t step on any toes and he was shimmying as best he could to avoid knocking over anyone.

That is, until someone bumped his shoulder hard. \- .... . -.-- / .- .-. . / .... . .-. .

Wunder turned to apologize to whoever it was, but the words died on his lips when a shiver crept up his spine. It was that feeling again. The same one as last night. But now instead of a bottomless hole at the base of his stomach, there was tight knot pulling at his insides. His chest was burning, and the crystal in his pocket pulsed and vibrated as if it was enraged. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why, but Wunder knew _something_ was wrong here.

He spun around to catch the person that bumped into him, but whoever it was didn’t seem to stick around. They disappeared into the nameless crowd, and Wunder felt compelled to search through each and every one of them to—

—Martin felt his head spinning. To do _what_ , exactly? His hand went up to the bumped shoulder and felt a wetness that wasn’t there before.

“…Hello! Earth to Wunder?” There were finger snapping in front of him, and suddenly Jankos was all up in his face, which was the last place anyone would ever want Jankos to be in. Behind the jungler, the rest of the team looked on with apprehension in their eyes. “Anybody home? Come on, you’re blocking the hallway.”

“What?” Martin glanced back and found half a dozen faces looking at him in irritation. “Oh, right, sorry.”

They moved along, but Jankos hung back just long enough to ask. “You okay, dude? You looked really out of it.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Martin lied, trying to think of an excuse. “Intense bowel movement.”

“Well get that sorted out, yeah? If you think you have a stomachache now, wait until we get back home tonight.”

Honestly, he thought that wouldn’t have worked.

But dread still pooled in his stomach, and it followed him all the way to the restaurant as they sat down and ordered their food. It gnawed at him all night long. Martin couldn’t put an exact finger on what he was feeling, but it was something like remembering that you left the stove on in your apartment or you’re about to miss a major deadline, but god help Martin, he couldn’t understand _why_ he was feeling this.

Across from him, Jankos licked his lips. “God, I’m going to be so fat after this,” the jungler whined, eyeing the strips of meat grilling on the stove top. And Martin couldn’t lie, the aroma of the burning meat made his mouth water. It was almost enough for him to forget about his worries. Almost.

 _Just leave it alone, Wunder. Enjoy the night and deal with it tomorrow._ He glanced to his side, where Rasmus was waving his hands around to paint a picture of the meteor showers again to Miky and Luka. One glance at Miky was enough to let him know that the Slovenian would be picking up where he left off earlier in the studio. And Martin wasn’t blind enough or distracted enough to not notice how the support had maneuvered their positions so that the two Danes were in the booth together.

But Luka had taken a seat at the head of the table next to Rasmus, which had the (unfortunate?) side effect of placing Miky and Luka side-by-side. For what it was worth, the two chatted and bantered freely with one another, and there was none of the tenseness that Martin had witnessed when he brought up their past relationship. Who knew, maybe they really were alright?

 _As If_.

“Kurwa!” Jankos, as if it could have been anyone else, cursed, standing and patting his pants and jacket pockets. “I think I left my phone and wallet in the studio.”

Quick as a whistle, Perkz let out his toxic ass laugh. “Seriously? Didn’t Grabbz tell you to double check your stuff when we were about to leave.”

“Yeah, but when have we ever listened to what _Graaobzz_ said?” Absent as he was due to other plans, the coach was still a target for Jankos’ jabs.

“Fair enough,” Luka conceded, but then his eyes widened. “But wait, isn’t it your turn to pay for dinner.”

Jankos cringed. “I know. I know. Would you guys mind covering for me tonight? I’ll pay you guys back after we get my stuff from the studio.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We?” Martin was _so_ not on board with this, even if his gut was flipping at the thought of returning to LEC. “The studio is like half an hour from here and it’s already late. Can’t you just go back for it tomorrow?”

“And spend the night without my phone!?”

“I swear, all of you are addicted.”

“Look,” Miky cut in before the argument could devolve any further. “Here’s what we’re going to do: Yamato and Drakos’ apartments pass by ours and they should still be at the studio. I’ll give them a call and ask them to drop by our house and deliver your stuff, okay?”

Jankos’ face lit up, and he clapped as if he was a child seeing a magic trick for the first time. “Ah, but how are you so smart, Miky?”

Miky rolled his eyes. The support pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and then pressed it to his ear. Beside him, Rasmus leaned over Martin and asked, “Miky still uses his phone as a phone?” To which, Martin just shrugged.

A few beats passed by, but the ringing did not stop until an automated voice rang out from the phone. Martin was too far away to catch what was said but judging by the frown on Miky’s face the call must have reached voicemail. “Must be busy,” Miky muttered, the crease between his brows chiseled by confusion as he stared at his phone. “Hold on, let me try Drakos.”

Another call, another voicemail message. The telltale tones of the disconnected calls were like drums against Martin’s ribcage. In the end, Miky just shot them a message and carried on with their dinner, but the Dane couldn’t do the same. Just as he was settling into the night, that feeling of dread clamped down on his throat once more. He ended up playing with his food more than anything, the conversations between his teammate white noise buzzing at the back of his head.

Before he knew it, all of the meat was gone from the table, and he hadn’t taken much more than three or four bites. While they were waiting on dessert, Jankos had gone back to pestering Miky about his phone and wallet.

“I told you, they haven’t read it yet,” Miky hissed, shaking off Jankos’ hand on his shoulder. He looked down on his phone and frowned. “They haven’t gotten it all, actually. Says here the message didn’t reach them.”

“Really,” Luka leaned over to check the screen. “You sure it isn’t your internet connection?”

“I can open twitter just fine. Must be something wrong with the internet at the studio.”

“But if there is a problem, it should have gone to their mobile network, right? Sure, the studio is in the middle of nowhere but the coverage there should be fine.”

“They should also be done with their shoot by now,” Rasmus pointed out.

“The point is that they haven’t read your message, right? Then they wouldn’t know that I left my phone and wallet there, then they won’t be able to pick it up for me.” Jankos jumped up and down in his own seat. “Can we go back to the studio _now_?”

“Still not going,” Martin said, even if his every instinct told him to _fucking go there_.

“Yeah, can’t you just go tomorrow morning instead?” Luka asked.

Jankos turned to Miky and put his hands together like he was praying to the support. “Pleaaaase help me, Miky. You’re my only hope. I need someone to give me a ride to the studio.”

Miky pursed his lips and squinted at the jungler. _Wait_ , Martin thought, _is he seriously considering this?_ It wasn’t rare for Jankos to make, quite frankly, ridiculous requests of the support. It was always _Miky I need help finishing this banana yogurt_ this or _Miky please massage my shoulders_ that, especially in recent weeks where, for some reason, the Pole’s jokey flirting with the support had doubled in volume, but Miky had always turned the older man down.

“…Fine,” Miky sighed. “I’ll call us an uber to the studio.”

Luka sat up in his seat. “Wait you’re going with him?”

“Yay,” Jankos cheered. “I knew you cared about me, Miky.”

“Don’t mention it, seriously.” The support turned to Luka. “Somebody has to keep an eye on him.” And to that, the midlaner had no argument.

“Well you guys better go soon,” Rasmus cut in, checking the time on his phone. “I think the studio closes in like thirty minutes, so if you don’t go now you’re going to be late.”

“Of course,” Miky sighed. He stood up and dropped a stack of bills on the table. “That should cover my share. You guys can take my ice cream. And you,” he turned to Jankos. “Come on, let’s go before I change my mind.”

Squealing, Jankos grabbed his jacket and followed after Miky. The support hissed at him, “I hope you’re happy that we’re going to have to miss dessert for this.”

“But Miky, you’re the only dessert I need~” Jankos replied as they disappeared through the restaurant doors.

Silence descended upon the table once those two left. Martin didn’t mind, but considering Luka was still at the table that was really suspect. The captain had gone silent as he watched the two leave, a strange look etched on his face. Eventually, he took out his phone and began to play with it, ignoring his remaining teammates.

Again, Martin didn’t mind. He settled himself into the seat cushions and closed his eyes, intent on staying still and finally clearing his thoughts when someone tapped his shoulder. “Wunder?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda weird recently.”

“I’m fine, Rasmus,” he said, opening his eyes and looking into the ADCs for extra sincerity. “It’s just indigestion, and—” he yawned “—not enough sleep.”

Rasmus tilted his head, looking up at him with eyes too wide and innocent and too bright to fall for such a blatant lie. “If you say so. Hey, did you find out anything about…” he glanced to his side to confirm that Luka was still playing on his phone. Then, he leaned in and whispered in Danish, “…the crystal you found?”

The smaller man’s breath on his neck was almost enough to make Martin shudder, the switch to their mother tongue the cherry on top, but he bit his cheek and stamped it down because there was no way Rasmus wouldn’t notice with how close he was. “Not really,” he admitted, also switching to Danish. He pulled the crystal out of his pocket and hid it under the table. “Hadn’t had the chance to look stuff up or anything.”

“Hm, I was googling blue crystals on the way here, but I don’t think I found a match for it.” Rasmus put his phone beside the crystal and pulled up an image of necklaces and rings adorned with blue jewels. “See. It’s too jagged, and the shape is all wrong.”

Martin squinted at the picture. “So what, it didn’t come from jewelry?”

“If it didn’t come from any jewelry, then it should be natural, no?” Rasmus asked. “Or at least it wasn’t cut to fit into one. They do that, right? Cut natural crystals into jewels.”

“I think so. But I get it if it, like, popped off of someone’s necklace or something, but what is something like this doing at the roof of our apartment complex?” He didn’t add the ‘but what was something like this doing in my hand?’. He wasn’t quite ready to share that yet. “Shouldn’t unprocessed gems be like really guarded in banks or jewelry stores or something like?”

Rasmus gasped and shook with glee. “Maybe some thieves dropped it while they were making their escape after the heist.”

“Would explain the sirens always in our area,” Martin mused. “But Rasmus, you know thieves don’t actually make rooftop escapes, right?”

Rasmus’ face fell. “They don’t?”

“Uh, I mean, maybe the… high-class ones?” Martin was straight up pulling stuff out of his ass for this one. “Anyway, I’m sure we would have heard on the news if a heist had happened somewhere around our district.”

“I guess,” Rasmus said, looking absolutely dejected that thieves had not absconded into their apartment complex, which, not going to lie, Martin was fairly willing to disagree with him on that one. The smaller Dane’s gaze returned to the crystal. “You know it’s kinda silly, but for a moment I thought it looked like—”

“Excuse me,” the waitress said. “Dessert for five?”

Martin clutched the crystal in his fist and drove it right back into his pocket. “Ah, yeah, that’s for us.”

After the waitress placed their desserts and left, Martin turned back to Rasmus and asked, “You were saying?”

“Later,” Rasmus answered as he picked up his spoon. “I’ll show it to you when we get back to the gaming house.”

Martin shrugged. That was that, he supposed.

Luka was about to take a huge scoop of ice cream when he stopped, put his spoon down, and looked far off into the distance. “Miky has the keys.”

Fuck.

* * *

The cool water was a shock to Yamato’s system.

The former coach gripped the edges of the sink, letting beads of tap water trail down his face and into the drain below. Seeing his ex-team for the first time went worse than it had any right to be. He thought he left Vitality without any hard feelings, it was business after all, and there was nothing personal to it. Hell, he thought he left the team with a good relationship with the players despite their struggles and losses. .-. ..- -. . / ..-. .- -.-. - --- .-. / -.-. --- -. ..-. .. .-. -- . -..

It sure as hell didn’t show. His conversation with Cabochard and Jactroll were awkward at best, filled with empty platitudes like ‘ _how are you’_ and ‘ _how have you been doing’,_ accompanied by a distinct lack of eye contact. He had tried to put his best foot forward, but even he didn’t know what to say to a brick wall. His conversation with the rookies hadn’t gone any better. It was easy to tell that mixed in with their starstruck expressions was a dose of pity. A washed-up player, and now a washed-up coach. \-- -.-- / -- -.—

It stung, and he was man enough to admit that. He ended up handing out some cliché advice about taking it slow and not letting the pressure control them to the rookies, and uttered a quiet ‘good luck’ to his former players before running to the toilet with his tail between his legs. .-- .... .- - / .-- --- ..- -. -.. . -.. / .--. .-. .. -.. .

Did they really lose faith in him? Had he failed them that much? Seeing Wunder and Miky again was the icing on the cake. He loved them both and the highs they have reached gave him boundless amounts of pride and joy, but… .-- .... .- - / ... .... .. -- -- . .-. .. -. --. / -- .- .-.. .. -.-. .

Yamato flicked the lever to the highest setting, and water rushed out of the faucet. -.-- . ...

He was a good coach. He knew he was. If he himself didn’t believe that, who else would? .. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / --. .-. .- -. - / - .... .- - / -.. . ... .. .-. .

He would have his chance, soon enough. Maybe not even next split, but he owed it to himself to keep trying. There were still so many things he had yet to do, things he had to achieve. He couldn’t give up now, after all his struggles and sacrifices. -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -.. --- / .-- . .-.. .-.. / .- ... / - .... . / ..-. .. .-. ... - / -.. .. ... ....

The door creaked open. Yamato pushed the valve shut and blinked at his reflection in the water. Right, he had a preseason hype package to shoot. The content team was probably waiting for him by now. _One step at a time, Jakob,_ he told himself, _One step at a time_. He leaned down to get one last splash of water to freshen himself up.

A meaty hand grabbed his head and shoved it into the sink.

Yamato felt the water rush up his nostrils before he realized what was happening. His breath seized, his eyes stung, and his heartbeat so fast that he couldn’t even feel it in his chest. As he was pushed down, his neck hit the edge of the sink hard, causing his mouth to gape open and take in even more water.

He flailed and lashed out, hands balled into fists to hit whoever was behind, but his attacker kept a firm hand on his head and pressed down whenever Yamato so much as tried to jerk back up. He didn’t know how long he drowned. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? But eventually, dark spots began to creep up from the edge of his vision, and every swing of his limbs felt heavier and heavier.

 _This is it?_ a sober, eerily calm portion of his mind asked. _This is how it ends?_

The hand let go, and Yamato shot up for a gasp of fresh air.

Only to gulp in even more water.

Liquid enveloped his mouth and filled his throat. His legs gave way from under him, slipping, and Yamato braced himself for a fall, but it never came. He fell and fell but never hit the ground. His legs trashed but found no surface to find purchase. Every movement of his arms was a struggle, but it felt like something was enveloping them rather than his own weakness keeping them down. Despite it all, Yamato pried his eyes open, and found himself staring into an abyss.

Gone were the mirrors and the aquamarine décor, the sinks and the stalls. All Yamato saw were darkness just beyond his reach, faint rays of light from somewhere above, without which he would have been completely blind, and a vast, boundless ocean. It was only when a bubble burst forth from his mouth that he realized he wasn’t falling. He was _sinking_.

The water shifted, pushing him forward. Something was here with him.

Yamato held his breath and squinted up. He could see the surface, shimmering and wavering, but he couldn’t see what lied beyond that. No matter, he had to get out of this pickle first. He swam and swam and found the light moved farther and farther away from him. No matter how much he tried he was going down, not up.

The water around him shook, so much so that Yamato could feel his very bones quivering. It was only after several beats of this that he realized that this wasn’t something lurking around in the water.

This was someone _laughing_.

“Pardon my ill-mannered introduction, but I find it prudent that we get straight to the heart of the matter.” Even with water filling it up, Yamato could hear the voice as if it were right next to his ear. Both ears, actually. It was as if the very ocean was talking to him. “You wish to prove them wrong, yes?”

Something moved in the shadows, just at the edge of his vision. Whatever it was, it dwarfed any and all animal he had ever seen in person. He caught a glimpse of scales and a solitary fin, and he reckoned that his body would only make up two-thirds of it.

“To prove to them that you still have worth. That you can still guide your protégés. That they made a mistake in kicking you out. You wish to see them grovel at your feet, asking for your forgiveness, begging for you to take them back.”

No. That was absolutely not what he wanted. He shook his head, and the ocean shook once more. “Your words and actions may differ, but your heart tells another story. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Let that resentment fuel you, that desire drive you!”

A pair of bright, yellow eyes blinked open in the darkness, staring with shameless hunger and pride. “From the abyssal depths, I come. As the King of Desire that reigns over rivers, I present to you the tools to satisfy your every want.” The creature swam out of the darkness, revealing a gargantuan catfish that could swallow him whole. It’s green-grey skin glistened under what little light reached these waters, and its tail slithered almost endlessly into the darkness. Two pairs of arms jutted out from its sides, just under its fins, ending in webbed hands and claws that could gut a man in half. The King smiled down at him, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth. “All you need to do, is say yes.”

It was only then that Yamato realized that this was the longest he has ever held his breath, and despite the tightness in his throat, his eyes were still wide open. He opened his mouth to refuse.

The water shook violently once more. It jostled Yamato, and the creature laughed openly. “Your input is not required. I got my answer the moment I sensed the crack in your heart.”

The creature opened its mouth. Yamato thrashed and swam, but it was useless. The very water held him down. He stared up into the creature’s gaping maw. It could swallow him in one bite, of that there was no doubt, but something caught his eye. A solitary light shone blue deep inside the abyss. Yamato caught only a glimpse of it before a surge of water enveloped it, turning the light from a brilliant azure to a deep crimson.

“Awaken your true potential,” The King of Desire cried. “From here on out, your name is—”

Yamato could do little else but scream as the mouth closed around him.

* * *

When he awoke, his roots burst forth, enveloping every inch of the studio in a matter of minutes.

He made sure not one soul escaped, and of those he held captive he planted his seeds deep within them. Soon they will grow properly and emerge as proud oak that would cover all the land in its shade. He would make sure of it.

He tended to his saplings one by one, ensuring that each and every one of them would grow big and strong. It was during one of his rounds that he felt a disturbance through his roots. New arrivals. Two pairs of footsteps. One upbeat and heavy, the other subdued and calm. The latter he was familiar with.

 _Ah_ , thought the treant, _New Saplings_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said I was planning to post weekly chapters but I'm putting this one out early as an appetizer before we mald at group stage. Hope you enjoyed it, and see you again soon!


	3. Game 1: The Hollow Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little pick-me-up before we mald together tomorrow.

The branches dug into him.

They wormed their way under his skin, burrowing in from his shoulders and sides and laying root deep between his bones. Or perhaps, they were growing out? The seed that _thing_ made him swallow bloomed in his chest to join the bark and branches pressed against his body. Marcin did not know which he considered worse.

It didn’t hurt. Not anymore, at least, but that gave him no comfort. A part of him wished that it still did. He could latch onto that pain. Focus on it as it spread from rib to limb to remind himself that he was still alive, still human. But no. The branches made their snug home all along his body, a natural fit, as if they had been growing there since the day he was born. But Marcin Jankowski sprang out of his mother’s womb a flesh and blood baby, and he would hold on to this fact for as long as he could.

It was too dark for his eyes to see clearly, or maybe the spots at the edge of his vision was a sign of his fading consciousness? Either way, and even so, he could still recognize the LEC stage. The stands where the fans would cheer for him and his team, the desks and computers where they tasted sweet victory and bitter week to week, all torn apart by the branches and trees sprouting out from the soil below, far past the very foundations of the building. They formed a wicked lattice over the walls and ceiling, confining others caught by that Tree’s trap. He himself was pressed tightly against the LED screens just behind the player tables. If he squinted and focused hard enough at a corner, he could see Ender confined to his own set of chain-like branches, eyes shut, almost peaceful, and a thin branch jutting out of his forehead like a horn.

Was that going to be him, not long from now? He could feel something squirming in his arm, rubbing against the walls of his skin, begging to get out.

 _It’s fine_ , Marcin thought. _Miky managed to escape, so it’s fine. He’ll get help, get together with Luka and the others and make sure they don’t come anywhere near here. So long as he’s fine and they’re fine it’s-it’s fine._

_Thud, thud, thud._

That _thing_ was coming back.

Marcin didn’t get a good look at it the first time around. In between the branches bursting out of the walls to attack him and the seeds getting stuffed in his mouth, he didn’t have the time to take in all of the details. Whatever it was, it was big. Two heads taller than him and thrice as wide, with one hand large enough to be able to envelop Marcin from shoulder to shoulder. Even if he were to able escape the branches, he wouldn’t have a chance if that bastard caught up to him.

Even now its footsteps echoed throughout the studio. A drumbeat that resounded throughout the branches and forced Marcin’s own heart to follow its rhythm. He had no doubt that if he were to get caught by that thing, he would end up as little more than a red paste on the floor.

The monster turned the corner, a hulking shadow the likes of which Marcin had never seen before, and slung on its shoulder was—

No.

Nononononono—

Marcin thrashed and beat at his bonds, throwing his whole body against the branches pinning him to the wall. Ah, yes, there was the pain, but that was far, far from his mind now. “Miky!” he cried out, throat dry and raspy, but the support did not so much as lift his head. “Miky, Miky! Let go of him _ty jebany skurwysynu! Ja cię kurwa zapierdolę!_ ”

But his threats fell on deaf ears. The monster walked up to a free space on the wall just beside Marcin and pressed Miky up against it. The Slovenian’s head lolled to the side lifelessly, and with his breath caught in his neck, Marcin really, really hoped that was just a figure speech. His eyes were jammed shut, his glasses nowhere to be seen, and there was a bit of blood leaking out from his chin.

No.

No, he would not let Miky get hurt like this.

He continued to struggle against the branches, straining his jaw and neck to shout curses at the thing, pawing at air in a vain attempt to hit it, but it paid him no mind. New branches sprouted out from the wall behind Miky, snaking their way all along his arms and legs before wrapping themselves around his body.

With Miky spread out like this, hands splayed out, Marcin could almost reach him. Just barely. He stretched his arms as far as he could but found only air. He needed this. He needed to know that Miky was alive. To let Miky know that he was here for him, even if he was in such a sorry state. Just a hairsbreadth away. Just a little more...

The Tree jerked Miky away by the head, and he was once more out of reach. It grabbed Miky’s jaw, forced it open and, almost gently, poured a handful of seeds into his mouth. Marcin threw his body against the branches, not minding the bruises or cuts or even the possibility of the broken bones he would incur by doing this. “ _Zapierdolę Cię! Jesteś kurwa martwy!”_

“Do not worry, child,” The Tree spoke, its voice booming and heavy. “You will reunite with him soon enough.”

And somehow, through his anger, fear, and sorrow, a bell rang at the back of Marcin’s head. He _knew_ that voice, but where?

The monster turned to him, and Marcin got his first good look at it. Despite its height and hulking frame, it was hunched back, its face almost in a line with its shoulders. Marcin could see now that the Tree’s giant arm and hand was his left, while his right arm was almost a twig in comparison. The creature looked up at him with eyes the colour of blue flame and—

No way.

No fucking way.

That’s—

“That’s enough of that,” the twisted treant chastised, giant hand reaching up to shroud Marcin’s world in darkness. “Rest now. When you awake, you will become one with the grove.”

* * *

“They’re not answering.” Luka tore the phone from his ear and scrolled through his apps. “That’s it. I’m calling us an Uber. We’re going after them.”

“Luka, calm down,” Martin said, ignoring the churning in his gut at another missed phone call. “This is Miky and—well, Miky we’re talking about. He can take care of himself just fine. Besides, it’s the LEC studio, what’s the worst thing that could possibly happen there?”

Sitting on the steps to their apartment complex’s door, leg bouncing with nervous energy, Rasmus cringed. “Those are really famous horror movie last words, Wunder.” They had gone back to their apartment complex after finishing their dessert and had resolved to wait for Miky and Jankos there. Without the keys, they were forced to wait outside the lobby in the Berlin winter. This would have been fine, but minutes had turned into an hour, and eventually an hour became two.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” the Croatian pointed out. “They should have been back by now if all they had to do was pick up Jankos’ things. And Miky’s not you, Wunder. He at least checks his phone regularly, and he would have told us if there was anything wrong or if he’s running late.”

“Well maybe his phone ran out of power or something, or the signal is hit, or they’re stuck in traffic. What if they’re already on their way back?”

“Then we’ll just take another taxi back home. It’s better than just sitting here doing nothing while we freeze to death. Aren’t you worried about them?”

“I am,” Martin replied, and that was the problem wasn’t it? Yes, of course he was worried, but the hair on his arms had been standing on end ever since Miky and Jankos left them, and it wasn’t from the cold. He was worried, yes, but this was _too much_. Something was wrong here, and the fact that he knew that long before the two went radio silent freaked him out more than he was willing to admit. He just knew that the last thing they should be doing was throwing more kindle to the fire. “I just think you’re overreacting here.”

“So then what do you suggest, we wait another hour?” Luka tapped the button to hail a cab and turned to him fully. “Look, if you two want to stay here, that’s fine, I can go by myself.”

That was so _not_ fine. If anything, the thought of Luka going alone was even worse. Martin opened his mouth to argue, but Rasmus piped up first. “I’m coming along.”

Quick as a whip, Martin turned to the smaller Dane. “Rasmus?”

The ADC looked up at him, eyes wide as saucers and—oh, no. “Luka’s right. Just standing around here doing nothing isn’t going to do us any good. If they really are on their way home then all we really lose is our time and a few euros. And, well, I...” Rasmus looked away, almost bashful. “...I’m worried about them too. L-Look, I understand if you don’t want to come, but _I_ want to, if only for peace of mind.”

Martin wanted nothing more than that too, but it felt like he was losing it little by little, day after day. But something about Rasmus’ words struck a chord and gave him the strength to swallow his fear, if only momentarily. He looked down at Rasmus, then to Luka, and then sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “I guess I’m coming too.”

Oh, well, that’s that, then. He tried his best to focus on Rasmus’ brightening expression and ignored the smug grin and waggling eyebrows Luka sent his way.

So here he was, half freezing on the curb and trying to calm his nerves as Luka tried his best to give directions to the driver on the phone with what little German he had. He took the time to honestly, _genuinely_ , figure out why he was so on edge. Sure, there was the meteor shower, but he woke up the next morning more rested and refreshed than ever. There was the photo shoot too, and his conversation with Yamato unsettled him, but it was nothing new. And then there was that guy he bumped into at the studio...

Rasmus tugged at his jacket. “You dropped the crystal.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Here.” Rasmus bent down, fished something out from under the snow, and presented the blue crystal to Martin with a smile. “You really should be more careful with it, you know. What if I wasn’t here and it went missing?”

Considering that he just found it last night, he probably would be just fine. Probably. He patted his pocket and froze when he felt a familiar lump there. “Uh, Rasmus?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t drop it.”

Rasmus giggled. “What are you talking about, I have it right here!”

“I’m serious, I didn’t drop it. Here—” he pulled the crystal out of his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand, showing it to Rasmus. “See?”

“Uh...” Rasmus’ eyes bulged open. Sure enough, an identical blue crystal was in Martin’s hand. The former midlaner placed their hands together side-by-side, gaze darting from one crystal to the other, trying to discern any differences. “...Okay. Maybe whoever dropped that one dropped this one too?”

Martin snorted. “And I’m the careless one?” He was about to say more when he noticed a steady thrum in his hand. The crystal vibrated ever so gently, like it was a machine running at low power, and from within its core a light began to shine. It was nothing too big or too bright, and it would brighten for a few moments before dimming in the next. A faint heartbeat, if that were possible.

His crystal wasn’t the only one. Rasmus noticed it too, and both their crystals hummed in sync. They shone and dimmed in unison, almost resonating with one another, and Martin found his heart following the same beat. In that brief moment, the fear gripping his heart was no more.

“Come on, you two,” Luka called out for them. “The car’s here. Let’s get moving before it gets too late.”

“We’re coming!” Martin replied, eyes still fixed on the crystal.

Rasmus opened his mouth to speak, but even he seemed at a lost as to what to say. Maybe if they had the time they would huddle here a little longer to figure out just what the fuck was going on. But Luka was waiting for them already, so Rasmus put his crystal away. All at once, the humming stopped and the light faded, leaving a twinge in Martin’s heart.

“...We’ll talk about this later?” Rasmus asked, still a little unsure.

“Yeah.” Martin nodded as he let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was keeping in. “Yeah, later sound fine.”

“Okay. Would you mind if I hold on to this one?”

The toplaner shrugged, putting away his own crystal too, this time in a zipper pocket. “Finders keepers.”

“Great! Can you distract Luka for a bit? I want to put this somewhere safe.”

“You’re not bringing it with you?”

“I’ll probably just end up losing it,” Rasmus chuckled. “Besides, I know a good hiding spot around here. Do you want me to put yours there too?”

“No.” The answer slipped out of his mouth before he even had the chance to consider it, and even then he found that he had no issue with it. “No, it’ll be fine. I can keep it safe.”

The car ride to the studio was a quiet one. Luka had called shotgun and had his eyes fixed firmly on the road, leaving Martin and Rasmus sharing the backseat together. The air in the cab was heavy, and whatever attempt the driver had made at small talk was swiftly and awkwardly shot down. Martin didn’t mind; he spent the entire trip looking out the window, watching the Berlin nightlife pass by while he turned over the crystal with his fingers.

The exterior lights of the LEC were dead by the time they got there. Martin doubted that there was still a soul here but considering that they had already come all this way, he might as well be thorough in his investigation. He stepped out of the cab and took the time to examine the studio. The last time he was here at anywhere close to nighttime was during their first best-of-five against Fnatic last Summer, and it was nowhere near as dark as it was now. There were a few cars still parked too, so shouldn’t there still be people here?

A raven landed on the tree next to the entrance.

Its wings fluttered as it settled into the branches, head twitching from side to side as birds always seemed to do, but then it stopped, turned, and stared straight at Martin. The shade from the tree enshrouded the Raven’s frame, cloaking it in complete darkness, but it could not hide the pair of crimson, beady eyes that gazed into Martin’s own. As freaky as it was, Martin couldn’t look away. It was as if time had stood still, and the two were waiting for the other one to avert their eyes.

“Wunder!” Luka called. He tore his gaze away from the raven and saw that his teammates were already ahead of him. In the distance, he could hear the car driving away. “Come on, we’re going to try the back entrance.”

“Right, coming.” He took one last glance at the Raven, who tilted his head to the side as if he were questioning Martin’s entire existence. Not long after, it cawed and flew away, and all Martin could do was sigh afterwards.

_Can this day get any weirder?_

They didn’t run into anybody else as they made their way to the backstage entrance. “This is creepy,” Caps commented, shivering. Martin really hoped that it was just from the cold. “Where is everyone? Shouldn’t there at least be security guards here?”

“Maybe they all went home?” Martin asked.

“But aren’t the guards supposed to stay here and, well, guard overnight? And what’s with all the lights being turned off?”

“Maybe they’re just trying to save power?” Luka quipped as they turned the corner. The back door was in sight. “I do not envy this place’s electricity bills, that’s for sure.”

“Wait. don’t we need a key card to open the back door...” The words died on Martin’s lips when they reached the back entrance, and the door stood ajar. “Never mind, I guess.”

“The lights are off inside, too.” Rasmus peeked into the opening. “It’s so dark in there, I can barely see.”

Martin turned to Luka. “You still think they’re here?”

Luka huffed. “Fine,” he said, taking out his phone again. “I’ll try calling them again and—uh...”

“Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just... I don’t have any reception here, and the backstage Wi-Fi is off too.” Luka furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I swear I had a full bar just before we got to the studio.”

Rasmus joined them. “So, what are we going to do then?”

“Well we came all the way here, didn’t we?” Luka turned on his phone’s flashlight and turned to them with a grin. “Let’s do a little exploring.”

“You do realize that this is breaking and entering, right?”

“Technically it was already broken before we came here, so we’re just entering,” Luka explained as if it was the most obvious reasoning. “Look, what’s the worst thing that could happen here? Somebody finds us looking around inside, we tell them that nobody was outside and the door was already open, and somewhere along the way we might find Jankos and Miky.”

“Luka has a point,” Rasmus interjected. “It’d be a waste if we stopped here.”

Martin sighed. _Why not, I guess?_ He already lost when he decided to come along with them, anyway. “Fine, but let’s snoop around too much, alright? We go in, find Jankos and Miky, and then get out. Speaking of which, do you even know where to start looking?”

“If I know Jankos, and trust me I do, he forgot his stuff in the makeup room after playing with his phone the entire time the makeup team was trying to make him look halfway presentable. We’ll start there.”

Martin ran a hand through his hair. How did he get roped into this, again? “Okay, you take the lead, I guess.”

And that was how he found himself trailing behind Luka and Rasmus, taking up the rear guard. It’s not that he was worried or scared per-se, he just felt immensely more comfortable having his teammates be within his line of sight. Still, there was something about these halls, once bright and colourful and filled with life, now veiled by a thick, heavy darkness that almost suffocated him. He had to resist the urge to look back every few seconds, ignore the cool tendrils trailing the length of his spine.

 _There’s nothing there_ , he had to remind himself. _It’s the studio, the worst thing that happens here is a G2-Fnatic stomp_.

Luka didn’t seem too worried about it, and neither was Rasmus, in fact. They chatted away happily about the differences between the day and the night here in the studio and how much the darkness changed everything. Too happily and cheerily, in fact. To Martin’s ears, it seemed like the two were trying to distract each other, and he didn’t blame them. He just wished that he could join in too, focus on their light and cheery tones, but the creeping feeling that someone was following him, that someone was watching them just at the edge of their vision, was too strong for Martin to ignore.

The light ahead of him flickered, and then shut down. “The fuck...?” Luka asked, tapping at his now lifeless screen “I still had eighty-percent battery on my phone. What the hell?”

“Mine too,” Rasmus said, staring at his own black screen.

“Same here,” Martin confirmed with just a glance of his phone.

“Well that’s creepy,” Luka commented. “Shit. We have no way of calling a cab like this.”

“Or a light,” Martin pointed out. “Should we turn back?”

“The makeup room is just around the corner. We’ll check it out for a bit and then head back out.” A shiver rushed up Luka’s body. “Fuck, this place is starting to give me the creeps. And I’m starting to think you’re right, Wunder. Maybe they really aren’t here—” Their captain froze, gaze fixed on a spot on the ground.

“...Luka?” Rasmus asked, voice small and shrinking. “Is something wrong?”

But the midlaner didn’t respond. Instead, he bent down and picked something up from the floor. He stared down at it without a word, shoulders locked and arms tense, not deigning to show what he had found to Martin or Rasmus.

“Did you find something?” Martin asked, and when Luka still didn’t answer he moved over to his captain’s side. “Luka, this isn’t the time to–”

He didn’t recognize what Luka held in his hands at first. When he looked over his captain’s shoulders, all he saw was a pair of glasses clenched tightly in the Croatian’s hands. It was only when his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the details became clearer that Martin knew exactly what Luka had a found, and it sent his heart plummeting.

“Is that…” Rasmus came up beside him, quivering at the sight. “…Are those Miky’s glasses?”

The silence confirmed it, and blood rushed to Martin’s ears. He could scarcely hear the clumsy, empty explanation Rasmus tried to pass off as alternatives over the ringing between his head. No matter how much the other man tried to assure them that maybe it was an accident or Miky forgot to pick it up, the bent frame and the cracked glasses told a different story. This was it, the culmination of all his fears and worries. Miky was missing, most likely hurt, possibly dead, and no trace of Jankos could be found. With how the night was going, they could be next.

The crystal in his pocket thrummed once more.

A warmth spread from the crystal, slowing down Martin’s heartbeat and the dark thoughts bombarding his head. Almost instinctively, he reached into his pocket and held onto it for dear life, letting it warm his near-frozen fingers. Right, panicking won’t solve anything, and it certainly won’t help finding Miky and Jankos. It looked bad, sure, but they would be hard trolling if they just gave up on them so easily.

He was about to tell the two as such when his eyes caught something. There, on the walls, grotesque lumps squirming just under the surface. They pulsed, quivering in anticipation, and Martin’s body moved before he even had time to think.

“Get down!” he tackled his teammates to the floor, an easy feat considering they were veritable midgets, just as something burst out of the walls. It grazed the top of his head, so hard and fast that he could feel the heat from the friction and the strands of hair swiped off. But he was fine, just barely.

The thing slammed the opposite wall, and Martin took the chance to examine it. Even in the darkness, he could tell that he was staring up at wood and bark. There were even some branches and leaves protruding from it. A tree? They were being attacked by a giant tree branch?

He didn’t get the chance to question it any further. The branch pulled back, and Martin knew he had to move quick. He got off the two and pulled them up by their arms. “Run!” he cried. They wouldn’t have much time before the branch could attack again.

Rasmus and Luka were quick on the uptake. They immediately began running back the way they came. Martin waited until they were both off the ground before taking off himself, but that proved to be his mistake. The branch had recovered from its wild swing and wrapped itself around Martin abdomen, grabbing him in a crushing bear hug that squeezed the air out of him, letting out a small ‘oof’.

The branch dragged him over to the wall and pinned him there, pulling him up just enough so that his feet touched air. He let of a small cry of pain, which made his teammates stop and look back.

 _No. No, keep going_.

But it was enough to seal their fate. A root burst out from the floor and caught Luka by the leg. No matter how much he struggled and struck the root, its hold remained firm. Another branch spouted out from the wall, grabbing Rasmus by the wrist and pulling him in, and all Martin could do was squirm helplessly, legs waving around in the air.

 _No,_ he begged in his heart, for his words failed him now. _No, please, I don’t care about me, just let them go_.

But no amount of begging would change the fact that whatever this was had them at its mercy. The branches were wound tightly, far too strong for him to tear through unaided, let alone Luka and Rasmus. Why didn’t he fight Miky and Jankos on this all the way back at the restaurant? Or tried harder to convince Luka and Rasmus to not go? Instead, he had ignored his instincts like a fucking cow when he could have prevented all of this. But no, it was too late, and only a miracle could save them now.

The crystal in his hand flared to life.

All at once, the room was filled with hot, blinding light. Martin had to jam his eyes shut to protect them, but even then, he still felt the heat wave pressing against his face. His hand was hot. Burning, even, but it didn’t hurt. When he felt the light dim and the heat cool, he peeked open an eye and found a shaft of light where his hand once was. Or rather, the light enveloped his fist. He could still stretch and wiggle his fingers, and the sharp edges of the crystal dug into the skin of his palm.

He knew how to use this.

Another branch sprung out of the wall to seize his hand, but Wunder was faster. He swung the light-blade down at his bonds and the wood gave way like a hot knife on butter. The gash he left was still red hot when he landed on his feet, and he swiped away another attempt at his arm. The dead bark had barely touched the floor by the time he was at Perkz’s side and in a single motion he hacked the roots clutching onto his captain. He carried that momentum, spinning around and catching the branch holding onto Caps in a devastating uppercut.

All at once, the branches quivered and quaked before slinking back into the walls. For a moment, Wunder stood at the ready, his light raised just in case, and when no retaliation came, he allowed himself a sigh of relief. His hand fell to his side, and the light retracted its length before completely fading.

“What,” Luka said from his spot on the floor. He and Rasmus had stumbled and fell on their ass upon their sudden release. “The fuck just happened?”

Martin really wished he had an answer to that. Caps stood up and, warily, began to approach him. “Wunder,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and fear. “Was that...?”

Could there have been any other answer? He held out his fist, opened his hand upward, and the crystal sprang free. No longer did it rest on his hand. Now, it floated just above his palm, bobbing up and down, letting out a constant hum that made the air shiver. It emitted a faint blue light that washed over them and cast their shadows into the darkness.

_What the fuck, indeed._

* * *

On the outskirts of the studio grounds, observing tonight’s show with a hearty meal, a man cackled in good humour.

He was not a small man by any means. Some would even say he was heavyset, while fools lacking in wit and common sense would even call him fat. His skin was dark and shimmering, as if he had just finished a swim, and adorned upon his face was a thick handlebar moustache that could make even grown men weep. His ensemble for the night included a crimson dress shirt, adorned with golden ornaments that served as buttons, a brown, collared coat, and of course, his favourite top hat. In his hands was a wooden cane with a golden handle in the shape of a catfish.

In truth, he had expected little less than watching Jakob Mebdi destroy himself tonight and savouring it, but the addition of five new guests gave the show a new twist. For a shard to activate as well, and in his hands no less...

Was this what they call fate? Only something as cruel and unpredictable could come up with something so funny.

“This is it?” he asked in between fits of laughter, wiping away the tears from his yellow eyes. “This was its plan the entire time? Just let the boy deal with it?” He broke out into another round of laughs, mouth gaping wide to reveal a row of grotesque, jagged teeth. When he finally finished, he glanced over at the raven perched in the tree above him. “You getting all of this?” -.-- . ... .-.-.- / -.-- . ... --..-- / .. / .- -- .-.-.-

The raven did not respond.

“Still, it looks like the boy hasn’t fully awakened just yet. Want me to nip him in the bud before he has the chance to bloom?” -. --- - / .--- ..- ... - / -.-- . - --..-- / -... ..- - / .... . / -- .- -.-- / .--. .-. --- ...- . / ..- ... . ..-. ..- .-.. / .. -. / --- ..- .-. / .--. .-.. .- -. ... / -- --- ...- .. -. --. / ..-. --- .-. .-- .- .-. -.. .-.-.-

But again, the bird did not answer. Instead, it stared intently as a light descended from the heavens and entered the studio, imperceptible to a mundane eye.

“Huh,” the man’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Looks like our little Keeper is intervening more than we thought it would. Are you sure you don’t want me to cut in on this one?” -. --- .-.-.- / ..-. --- .-. / -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... .. -- .--. .-.. -.-- / --- -... ... . .-. ...- . / - --- -. .. --. .... - ... / .--. .-. --- -.-. . . -.. .. -. --. ... / .- -. -.. / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- . -.. / .- ... / .--. .-.. .- -. -. . -.. --..-- / .-- . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ..-. .. --. ..- .-. . / --- ..- - / .-- .... .- - / - --- / -.. --- / .-- .. - .... / - .... . / -... --- -.-- / .-.. .- - . .-. .-.-.-

The bird only cawed in response. It fluttered its wings and flew off into the night.

The man took that as a hard no.

Ah, well, it wasn’t like he was complaining. Tonight, he had a show and a feast to go along with it. What’s not to love?


	4. Game 1: Access Granted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i malded, am malding, and will mald
> 
> Anyway, I would like to take this time to invite you all to the Dreamserver, a Discord server run by the lovely Piper_Ronnie, author of Can't Seem to Let You Go ~~and breaker of hearts~~. It's a cool place where LoL RPF authors and artists hang out and exchange ideas ~~among other activities~~.
> 
> Just use the link below and you're all set!
> 
> https://discord.gg/W8J9sa
> 
> Due note that this link only works for 24 hours. If you missed it, drop a comment and I'll hook you up with a fresh link.

“So, let me get this straight,” Luka said, turning the crystal over in his hand. “You used this thing to make a lightsaber?”

Martin shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.”

“And you found this the other night after the meteor shower?”

“Also kinda.” Martin scratched the back of his head, feeling utterly ridiculous about what he was about to say next. “It sort of just… appeared in my hand?”

Luka looked at him like he had grown a second head, while Rasmus stared up at him with furrowed brows. “You never told me this,” the ADC said, a little hurt.

“I thought I was imagining things,” he confessed. “But considering we were just attacked by trees that isn’t really much of an excuse now, is it?”

They had retreated back out from the studio after Martin dispatched the branches and roots and were now huddled together some distance away from the entrance. Martin kept one eye at the darkness beyond the door at all times, and with what he knew now that darkness was more threatening than ever before. Even now, it felt like there were a pair of eyes watching over them.

“I have…” Luka pursed his lips. “…so many questions. And as insane as it sounds, we have more important things to worry about than a magic crystal.” He handed the crystal back to Martin, and it released that slow, soft hum once more, glowing just a tiny bit. So far, it had only reacted to him and him alone. Meanwhile, Luka pulled out the glasses he had swiped from the floor. Under the yellow light of the streetlamp, the identity of the glasses’ owner was undisputable. “You two know what this means, right?”

“Yeah…” Martin replied, chest tight. His worst worries were all but confirmed, and he was kicking himself for not listening to them earlier. “Whatever tried to take us took Miky. Jankos, too, probably.”

“What do we do?” Rasmus asked, completely at a lost. “Should we call the cops?”

“My phone is still dead.” Luka scoffed. “And even if we could call them, what do we tell them? A tree is taking over the LEC studio? They’ll never believe us. And even if they do take us seriously, do you really think they can handle what’s inside?”

“And we can?” Martin asked.

“You’re the one with the magic lightsaber. You tell me.” And to that, Martin had no argument.

“Guys,” Rasmus cut in, the quiver in his words almost palpable. “What if they’re…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Martin got the message, and his mind blanked at the thought.

 _Dead_.

Judging by the shiver that went through Luka, he got the message too, but he recovered far quicker. “Then I want to see their bodies,” he stated, conviction clear and eyes ablaze. “I know it isn’t likely, but we don’t know for sure what happened to them. So long as there’s a chance that they’re still alive, that they’re somewhere in there waiting for us to save them, I’m not leaving them behind.” His gaze turned softer, and he looked between his two remaining teammates. “I understand if you two don’t want to go back in there. If I don’t come out in an hour, I want you two to get out of here and call the authorities.”

“Noted,” Martin said. “But unnecessary. We’re coming with you.”

Luka blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re not leaving you behind, and we’re not leaving Miky and Jankos behind either,” Rasmus affirmed.

“Besides,” Martin cut in. “I’m the one with the magic lightsaber, remember? We’re going in there with you,” he said, trying his best to exude as much confidence as he could.

Because if Martin was being honest, none of this sat right with him. The crystal, and his weird gut feelings, were too far out of his control for him to have any trust in them. He liked to think that he was a logical person, someone who placed their trust in tangible facts, someone who followed his head instead of his heart but still managed to find a happy medium between the two. There was absolutely nothing logical about these new additions to his life. Even now they felt like voices in his head, beckoning him to dangers that weren’t there, and all Martin could do was hope that he wasn’t going crazy.

Except the dangers _were_ there. They had been right about Miky and Jankos, and they had saved him and his teammates from whatever those trees were going to do to them. In fact, his own stubbornness in ignoring them had put his friends at risk. Martin got the message. If it meant saving Miky and Jankos, he’ll put his faith in these strange instincts of his.

Luka sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “There’s no way I can convince you two to stay behind is there?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid. Rasmus?”

“No from me either. Besides, the last thing you want to do in a horror movie is split up.”

“I was really hoping we’d have switched genres by this point,” Martin complained as he fiddled the crystal.

“Okay,” Luka said. “Fuck, you two are annoying when you group up together like this. Let’s go then. The sooner we find Miky and Jankos, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Right. And, uh…” Martin coughed into his fist. Fuck, here comes the awkward part. “…sorry for fighting you so hard on coming here. Maybe if I didn’t we could have come here sooner and Miky and Jankos wouldn’t have…”

“What’s done is done,” Luka replied without hesitation. “What matters now is that we find them. And…” he scratched the back of his head. “…I realize I wasn’t acting rationally, I’m still not if I’m being honest, and you were just trying to cool our heads. It’s fine.”

“What isn’t fine is how long we’re taking here,” Rasmus protested. “Come on, we can save this for later.”

 _If there is a later_ , a morbid part of Martin thought.

“Right. Wunder, you, uh, you should probably take point.”

“What?” Martin blinked, and then looked down at his hand. “Oh, right.” For a second, he was afraid he couldn’t replicate what happened earlier in the darkness, but as soon as Martin set his mind to it, his body handled the rest. He clenched the crystal in his fist, closed his eyes, and focused on its warmth, focused on the steady beat of its power. He reached in, matched his breathing with its beat, and _willed_ its power to life.

Golden light erupted from his hand once more, curving off at the end to form a pointed edge. It was around the length of his arm, long enough to scrape the pavement at the end. He pictured it shorter and wider, just barely protruding from his hand, and lo and behold it became as so.

Luka just shook his head. “So many questions.”

Martin took a deep breath and made the first step back into the studio. Luka and Rasmus were right behind him, so close that they were a hairsbreadth away. His hand-light was far brighter than Luka’s phone, and their path was much clearer the second time around, but if anything, their steps were much more careful now. They couldn’t help but stop at every corner and flinch at every movement in the shadows. The hair on the back of Martin’s neck was standing up at all times, and he swore he was about to swing his blade the next time something so much as looked at him funny.

But nothing came for them, and they delved deeper into the studio unimpeded. They eventually reached the spot where they were attacked, and there were no traces of the roots and branches that remained. The only prove they had that it wasn’t some kind of group hallucination episode were the gaping holes in the walls.

Martin stopped right in front of the largest hole, the one where the first branch attacked them initially. “Wait here,” he said to the other two, stepping forward and shining a light over the hole.

Nothing. The only thing behind the wall was a cascade of steel beams and pipes. This scared Martin more than it should.

Rasmus came up behind him, standing on his tiptoes to try (and fail) to look over Martin’s shoulder. “Maybe you scared it off?”

“Here’s hoping,” he said, even if he didn’t particularly believe that.

“With all the cars still parked outside it looks like everyone who was still doing content after we left got caught by whatever this is,” Luka theorized. “It’s probably why Yamato and Drakos didn’t answer when Miky called them at the restaurant.”

Martin’s stomach dropped at the mention of Yamato. _When will it end?_

“But where are they now?” Rasmus asked. “Whoever is behind this has to be keeping them somewhere.”

Luka rubbed his chin. “There were a still a couple dozen people still here when we left, and all of the rooms we’ve passed by until now have been empty. If it’s really keeping all of them together then the main stage probably has enough space to hold all of them in one place.”

“Then that’s where we’re heading next,” Martin stated, and they continued travelling deeper into the studio.

 _It’s ridiculous_ , a part of him still thought. Any other day he would be walking down these halls without a care, and now even the most familiar of rooms, hallways, and tapestries on the wall put him on edge. It didn’t help that, as they got closer to the mains stage, Martin felt his shoes stepping on what was decidedly _not_ solid floor.

He jumped back, sending his teammates shuffling away, and pointed his blade downwards at–

…Grass?

He diverted his light upwards and froze at the sight before him. Roots, branches, and leaves lined the hallway before them, covering the blue and orange walls with bark and greens and the floor tiles with grass. Martin raised his blade, ready to beat back anything that attacked them, but nothing happened. Not a single one of them moved to attack and none of them so much as slithered at their presence.

“Getting warmer,” Luka muttered, and moved to go onward when Martin stopped him by the shoulder.

“Wait,” the toplaner said. “Don’t you think this is a little weird? These things had no problem finding and ambushing us earlier and now we’re right in front of them, basically sitting ducks, and they’re not attacking?”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That we’re walking into a trap.”

“But we already knew that,” Luka said, then appeared to think about it for a moment. “Probably? Sort of? Point is that we knew it was going to be dangerous to go back inside, so what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just…” Martin grit his teeth in frustration. “I just wish we have a better plan than walking into the enemy’s trap and hoping for the best.”

“Me too, but we really have no other choice.”

No. No, they did not. Leaving without Miky and Jankos was unacceptable.

“Don’t worry,” Rasmus said as he came up beside them. “We’ve been in tighter spots than this, we’ll figure something out.”

Martin was pretty sure that statement was factually untrue, but it was easy to believe Rasmus when he smiled up at him like that, and for those words to carry him onward into the cave of trees. More grass and soil began to sprout out in between the floor tiles, and even the branches began to spread out overhead to form a thick foliage. The entire time Martin was just waiting for one of them to reach out and try to grab one of them, but still none of them moved.

A cramped corridor gave way to a spacious main hall, and Martin couldn’t see shit.

“Could you…” Luka said, pointing at the light in his hand.

“I’m trying but I think there’s a limit.” Martin tried to will the blade to be wider and brighter, but it could go little farther in both categories compared to what he had set already. It appeared that this thing was a sword first and a source of light second.

“Maybe we should try hugging the wall,” Rasmus suggested. “See what we can–” glowing blue veins appeared all along the branches that covered the walls and main stage, coming in as a wave starting from behind them, illuminating the main stage in a soft, nightly glow. It was nothing too bright, just enough to let them see where they were going and some fine details. “–find.”

Martin lowered his blade when nothing popped out to attack them, and honestly? He was starting to hope it would happen now, if only to get it over with.

The main stage, where they as a team have styled and profiled on the rift, where countless fans have cheered for them and for good League of Legends, was a mess. The branches covered the walls and ceilings here too, so much so that Martin could only tell which side was which from memory and the general layout of the place. The stands were wrecked, the tables bound under a layer of roots, and the LED screens cracked by branches sprouting out of them.

“Is that…” Rasmus walked up to the wall next to them and leaned in to get a closer look, squinting. Suddenly, he cried and stumbled back, landing flat on his ass.

“Rasmus!” Martin rushed to his ADC’s side, throwing his free arm across the other boy’s shoulders to keep him steady. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

All Rasmus could do was stutter, a quivering mess in Martin arms as he pointed a shaking finger at the wall in front of him. Martin followed the finger, ready to cut down whatever was threatening Rasmus when he saw–

…Oh.

“Fuck me,” Luka whispered, all of his breath rushing out of him. “Cabochard?”

The man in question could not answer, eyes firmly shut and head lolling to the side. A thick lattice of branches and roots held his body up and pinned him to the wall, almost like a cocoon of bark and leaves. Martin almost didn’t recognize one of his toplane rivals, but when his vision cleared up and he took a closer look, he understood why.

Cabochard was turning into a fucking tree.

His face was littered with bark and wood, and what little flesh and blood skin he had left had taken on a strange, green coloring. Even his hair and beard had followed suit, resembling shrubbery now more than anything else. For some reason, Martin could almost discern a design to all of the wood on Cabochard’s face. It was at the tip of his tongue and he had seen something like this before. A mask maybe?

“I-Is he,” Rasmus said, a leaf in the wind in Martin’s hands. “Is he dead?”

None of them answered for a moment, but then Luka, trailblazer that he was, stepped up. He reached into the wood-cocoon with two fingers and felt around for Cabochard’s neck, frowning as he struggled to find a pulse. Was his neck covered in bark too?

Finally, Luka stopped. He fell silent, brows furrowing together in concentration, before he let out a sigh of relief. “He’s alive,” Luka said. “I can feel a pulse. It’s weak – but I can still feel it.”

Martin helped Rasmus to his feet. The other boy was still a bundle of nerves, but some of the tension had ebbed away once Luka confirmed Cabochard was alive. “What’s happening to him?” The smaller Dane asked. “Is… Is he turning into a tree?”

 _Was this what they were planning to do to us?_ Martin turned to scan the room, and with the added knowledge of what was happening to Cabochard, the patterns on the walls began to make much more sense. “He’s not the only one,” he called to his teammates, spurring their attention.

The light in the main stage was dim, but it was enough for Martin to tell faces apart. Most of them he recognized, nameless crew members that he had seen in passing throughout the years. Some he knew, like Drakos and Jactroll and–

“Miky!” Luka cried, pelting off towards his Support.

“Luka, wait!” He and Rasmus followed after their captain. This was not the time to get separated

By the time they caught up to Luka, he was already cradling Miky’s head in his hands. “He’s alive,” Luka breathed, and it was like all the weight on his chest had been lifted. “ _Hvala Bogu_ , he’s alive.”

Martin couldn’t help it, he let out a crazy giggle, half relieved and half ecstatic. His worst fears were wrong for once, and if Miky was here then that should mean…

“Jankos!” Rasmus ran up to the cocoon beside Miky, standing on his tiptoes to check up on their Jungler. “He’s okay too, I think.”

Once everyone had finally calmed down, Luka turned to Martin, a familiar fire in his eyes. “Can you cut them down?”

Martin nodded, and his blade lengthened to its normal size. “Leave it to me.”

It was tricky work. He couldn’t swing wildly in fear of hurting his teammates, and the network of branches that bound them formed a thick weave that made Martin second guess every cut he made. When he finally worked through the first layer of Miky’s cocoon, he stopped once he saw what was inside. “Uh…”

“What’s wrong?” Luka asked.

“You, uh, you might want to see this for yourself.”

Luka looked over Martin’s shoulder, and the toplaner could feel the Croatian tensing up once he saw what was inside. “Is that–I’m not imagining it, right?”

The branches were growing _out_ of Miky.

His shirt had been torn where the branches grew out, and they had connected with the outer layers that had grown out of walls – and by extension Miky was too. The Support wasn’t just held up by the wall of trees, he was _attached_ to it.

“What are they doing to you?” Luka whispered in horror.

“Should I keep going?” Martin asked, at a complete lost himself.

“It’s risky,” Luka mused. “We don’t know if it’s safe to cut them down or not, but…”

“…but we’re not leaving them like this,” Rasmus finished. “Maybe we should try looking around a bit more? Find a way to reverse whatever this is.”

“There’s not that many places left to search,” Luka pointed out. “Either we missed something or whatever is causing this is out of reach.”

Martin cut in. “Whatever we decide, we should do it quick. The longer we stay here the riskier it is for everyone.” He looked to Luka, awaiting his command.

Their captain kept his gaze fixed on Miky, a blank look on his face. He reached out and grasped one of the support’s hands with his right, interlocking their fingers together, and pressed two fingers to Miky’s wrist with his right. He turned his gaze to Martin. “Cut them down,” he commanded. “If anything happens to them, I’ll take full responsibility.”

The last part was unneeded, and it was not like the two Danes to throw fault like this, but it was just Luka being Luka. Martin nodded and set to work. Slowly, he pressed his blade against the branch, and with a racing heart and a bated breath he made a small cut. He almost imagined blood spouting out of the branch, but when none came out he looked up at Miky, who remained peacefully out cold, then to Luka, who nodded at him.

The rest was an easy affair. Martin hacked at the branches attached to Miky’s flesh and the last of which that chained him to the wall, and with one last cut Miky was set free. He fell into Luka’s arms. The Midlaner set his Support down and sat down with him, resting the Slovenian’s head on his thigh. “Get Jankos down,” he told Martin, and then bent down to look Miky over for wounds.

Getting Jankos down was an easier affair now that it was Martin’s second go at this, and in a matter of minutes he and Rasmus managed to rest their jungler against the player tables. Whatever was happening to them, Jankos was far more along the process than Miky was. Miky’s skin was still fairly creamy and clear, with only few bits of bark jutting out. Meanwhile their jungler was just under Cabochard in terms of greenery and skin-to-wood ratio.

“Do you think there’s a way to get them back to normal?” Rasmus asked.

“I sure hope so.” Even then Martin wasn’t as worried as he ought to be. They would figure something out. They always do. “Let’s focus on getting everyone out of here alive first. Luka, what next?”

“It’s obvious, no?” Luka looked up from staring at Miky’s face. “We get them both out of here. Wunder, can you carry Jankos by yourself?”

“I think so, yeah.” Jankos wasn’t the lightest member on G2, but Martin had certainly lifted far more than his jungler’s body weight before. But that wasn’t what was on his mind. No. A single glance at the room was enough for reality to come crashing down. “But what about everyone else? How are we going to get them out?”

Luka opened his mouth only to close it at the next moment, looking genuinely lost. Rasmus seemed to have caught on to the problem too and began fidgeting in place. The short answer was that they can’t, not when they were in enemy territory and they have no idea what it was exactly. Even getting Jankos and Miky out was optimistic at best. But at the same time it didn’t feel right to leave anyone behind, not when their little expedition was built on the creed of ‘leave no one behind’.

Miky stirred in Luka’s lap.

Martin could almost see the indecision leave Luka’s face as Miky’s eyes began fluttering open in tiny slits, as they would wherever he was without his glasses. When he spoke, it was groggy and coarse from deep slumber. “…W-What? Where…”

“Miky,” Luka breathed, soft and heavy as his hand kneaded worried circles in his support’s hair. “Miky, it’s me. It’s us.”

“Luka?” The Midlaner helped Miky up to a sitting position, supporting him with a hand on his back the entire time. “…What? Where are we? What are you all doing here? And where are my glasses?”

“Oh, right!” Luka pulled out the glasses and handed them over to Miky. The Slovenian was a veritable blind man without them. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Miky mumbled.

Rasmus kneeled down next to Miky. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Like an elephant was stomping all over my head,” Miky groaned, clutching his head in one hand and his glasses in the other. “God, my head hurts. What the hell happened.”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Martin said. For someone who was turning into a tree, Miky was taking things very well. Did he not realize it yet? “Do you remember anything? You were already like this when we came to save you.”

“Save me? What are you…” Another pained groan. Miky finally put on his glasses and tried to blink away the cobwebs. “Last thing I remember is going to the studio with Jankos to get his stuff and then we saw…” Miky’s eyes drifted over to Jankos, who was still slumped on the table out cold. Martin watched as the Slovenian’s face slowly morphed into a cocktail of realization, relief, and horror.

Miky jumped, eyes wide and clearly panicking. “We have to leave, now!”

“What?” His support’s outburst sent Martin’s heart racing. “Did you remember something?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. Right now we have to grab Jankos and go!”

“Miky, slow down.” Luka placed a firm hand on Miky’s shaking shoulder, trying to blunt the manic energy. “You’re safe; we’re here for you. And we have to figure out what to do about everyone else first.”

“We don’t have time to save everyone else, and we’re not safe!” Miky snapped. “He can see through the roots, through the branches, and they’re everywhere in the building. The only reason you’re here is because he wants you here.”

Something dropped in Martin’s gut. “Who’s he?”

The building shook. Behind them, a mighty crash sent them tumbling to their hands and knees. The cascading concrete filled and deafened Martin’s ears and the dust that blew out singed his eyes and filled his nostrils, forcing him to clamp them shut. Distantly, Martin registered that it was the roof that gave way, crushing the audience stands underneath piles on piles of rubble, but he could only confirm this once the smoke finally cleared and he could finally lay his eyes on who was behind all of this.

What he did not expect was a familiar face.

“No fucking way,” Luka said, and he was sure his jaw was glued to the floor. “Maokai!?”

There was no mistaking it. That hulking frame, the mismatched arms, that wide mask-like face and hunched, tree-like body. Martin was unlucky enough to have the Champion’s image seared into his consciousness through years of playing him, and the dread Maokai would illicit in him was far different than the dread he was feeling now.

“How is this possible…” Martin’s voice came out shakier than he would have liked it to be. “You’re a–”

“Video game character.” Maokai sounded as far from amused as possible. “Yes, I’ve gathered. But this world is far bigger than what you know it to be, Shard-user.”

As loath as Martin was to admit it, things were starting to make sense. The pattern he saw the wood made on Cabochard’s face was eerily similar to Maokai’s own, and it would explain all of the trees.

What it did not explain was _how the fuck is Maokai real?_

“It does, however, make introductions far less of a hassle,” Maokai pressed on, ambivalent to the bewilderment he had placed on everyone. “Yes, I am Maokai, and I bid you all welcome into my grove, members of G2.”

“This is insane,” Luka gulped. “This can’t be real. How are you real? Why are you here?”

“Oh, I am very much real, Luka Perkovich, and the sooner you accept that fact the sooner we can get this over with.” Roots began sprouting out of the rubble, growing far faster than they had any right to be. “As for your question, the why is more important than the how, but you’ll learn of it soon enough. But allow me to make one thing clear: none of you are leaving this place until I’m done with you.”

That was a threat if there ever was one. For a moment, silence fell upon the room as it the situation finally sank in. There was a thick lump stuck deep inside Martin’s throat, and he found himself hoping that this was all a bad dream.

Luka stepped up. “We escaped from you before,” he stated, all bravado and empty confidence. “We can do it again.” Was provoking the giant tree man foolish and reckless? Quite possibly, but damned if Martin’s heart didn’t swell and soar at his captain taking charge.

“Let’s make another thing clear,” Maokai said. “The only reason you escaped was because I let you escape. Because I knew you would come back for your friends.” The treant’s azure gaze drifted over to Martin, and he clenched the crystal in his hand so tight that he could feel it drawing blood. “I admit, I didn’t expect you to possess a shard, nor for it to awaken like so, but even with it you are hardly a match for me, Wunder.”

Maybe, but all he really need to do is hold Maokai back long enough for his team to escape.

“Your decision to come back was admirable,” Maokai said. “Foolish, but admirable. But I cannot allow you to take them away. Their transformation is incomplete, and it would be a waste to stop it now.”

“You’re the one doing all of this,” Rasmus said, eyes widening. “What are you doing to them? Why are you doing this?”

“To prepare them, child,” Maokai stated as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “They will require my blessings to survive the oncoming era, or they will perish without a chance.”

_Oncoming era?_

“Is that a threat?” Luka spat, but Martin could hear the quiver of fear in his voice. _What the hell did they just step into?_

“Nay. If anything consider it a warning.” Maokai began descending from his mountain of rubble, and Martin’s body moved back on its own, a move shared by everyone else. “The texture of this world will soon be reshaped and the local laws overwritten into something that this humanity cannot hope to survive. All I’m doing is simply giving them the tools to survive in such a brave new world.”

“Giving us – Look at what you did to Jankos!” For the first time in a long time Martin saw Miky with genuine fury in his words, a far cry from his usual soft timbre. “You attacked us and changed us against our will, and you think you’re, what, some kind of savior?”

“A savior?” Maokai chuckled, heavy and loud. “Nothing so grandeur as that, my dear Mihael. I am merely a guide, a gardener tending to blooming flowers. They may grow as they wish, but they _will_ bloom into the best form that they can be. I will make certain of it. And now I offer you all the same boon. Lay down your arms and join your friends.”

This conversation was moving far too quickly. So many phrases just whooshed over Martin’s head that he was almost tempted to ask Maokai to repeat something he said like some kind of schoolboy, and now this? “And what if we say no?” he asked, even if he already knew the answer to that question.

Maokai shook his head, and his eyes began to glow bright. “Then I would answer that you didn’t have a choice to begin with.”

Beside him, Miky clutched his head and hunched over, a cry of pain escaping his lips.

“Miky!” Luka was by Miky’s side in an instant, crowding over him. “What is it what’s wrong?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Martin noticed that Jankos stirred from his sleep. Good, if Jankos could run by himself it would make their escape much easier–

–Jankos’s eyes shot open, revealing a solid blue light.

The jungler pounced, leaping up from his spot on the floor to throw his body at the nearest person. In this case, it was Luka and Miky. He crashed into them, Luka yelping in surprise, and they all tumbled down to the floor.

Martin’s body moved before he could even think. He raced over to the pile and grabbed one of Jankos’ arms, Rasmus having the same idea and tugging at the other arm, and they pulled the Pole off of the former botlane duo.

“Jankos!” Rasmus squealed even as Jankos squirmed and struggled in their hold. “Marcin, it’s us, you’re teammates! It’s okay!”

“I’m afraid he can’t hear you right now,” Maokai spoke, watching over the kerfuffle from afar.

“What did you do to him?” Martin managed to bark in between Jankos’ elbows hitting his chest. He didn’t remember the jungler being _this_ strong. Was this the effect of the transformation?

“I can hear him,” Miky managed to mumble, lips trembling, a leaf in the wind as he curled up on the floor. “H-He’s in my head. He’s telling me to–to…” Another cry of pain, and Luka was on top of him again, holding him tight. The Croatian glowered at Maokai, and if looks could kill the treant would have been a stump by now.

“Stop this!” Luka yelled, the veins on his neck popping. “Stop hurting Miky or I swear to God I’ll– ”

“Save your threats for when they mean something, mortal, which shouldn’t be long now,” Maokai said. “And as for the what…” 

Jankos went still in Martin’s arms, and he finally let himself hope that they had finally caught a break, but no such luck. In one swift motion, the jungler threw both Danes down onto the floor like they weighed nothing. Martin fell flat on his ass, the air whooshing out of him from the impact, and found himself next to Luka and Miky.

Jankos looked down upon them and opened his mouth – Martin almost hoped that it was one of the Pole’s signature screams – but when he spoke it was with a voice not his own.

“He is becoming one with the grove,” Jankos and Maokai said. “Same as me.” The man placed a hand on his chest, and then gestured to the wood-cocoon lined walls. “Same as all of us.”

Like a wave, those trapped on the walls opened their eyes to reveal the same blue glow. And when they spoke, they spoke in unison, almost deafening Martin.

“WE SHALL BLOOM AS ONE,” they said. “WE SHALL BECOME THE PINNACLE OF WHAT WE ARE MEANT TO BE.”

“BEAUTIFUL, IS IT NOT?” It was clearly Maokai talking, but they all followed like puppets on string. “MORTALS ALWAYS SAID THAT COOPERATION WAS THEIR GREATEST STRENGTH, SO HERE AND NOW I OFFER IT. UNDER MY GUIDANCE THEY WILL GROW BIG AND STRONG, STRONG ENOUGH TO CRUSH WHATEVER CHALLENGES AWAIT THEM UNDER THEIR HEEL.” The Champion’s gaze swept over the remaining G2 members. “ONE LAST CHANCE. SUBMIT YOURSELVES WILLINGLY TO THE GARDEN _._ ”

…a small part of Martin couldn’t help thinking that they might as well take the offer. Their chances of escaping was growing increasingly slim by the second anyway, and at least this way they won’t prolong their suffering. But as he took in the faces of his teammates, frozen with fear and indecision, he knew that there was only one answer he would be satisfied with. The only one he could be happy with. He rose to his feet, clenching his crystal – or shard, apparently – in his fist. The blade of light sprang out once more. “Shove it up your ass, tree-man.”

He could hear the sigh leaving Maokai’s mouth. “Mortals, always so stubborn.”

Martin felt the branches charging at him long before he saw them, and he swung his blade to intercept. One, two, three swings. A pile of dead wood fell at his feet, but for every branch he cut down two more would take its place. They were no longer at the outskirts of Maokai’s control. This was the heart of his territory, and the terrain alone was enough to put Martin on the back foot.

They came at him from all directions. All he could see in his vision was the browns and greens of branches and leaves, and Martin barely had a chance to breathe before he had to cut down another branch going for his neck or a root bursting out of the floor to entangle his ankle. There seemed to be no end to them. Martin swung and slashed until his arm grew heavy and his body screamed at him to stop. But he couldn’t, not when everybody was behind him–

“Get away from him!” Luka tackled Jankos away from Rasmus, but that proved to be his undoing. Jankos didn’t budge, and instead clamped down on the midlaner’s arms. The branches were on Luka the next instant, swallowing his body whole. The midlaner tried to let out a scream, only for his mouth to be muzzled by a net of leaves.

Martin’s lapse in attention proved to be his undoing too. A branch caught him by his left wrist, and a root itself wrapped around his right ankle. It was all he could do to beat back anything else that came his way.

Rasmus tried to scurry back, tried to reach out to Miky who was still a ball on the floor, but he had no chance. The branches scooped him up and forced him to stand up, legs spread wide and arms outstretched. Rasmus let out a cry of surprise. Maokai trudged up toward the captured Dane, mangled arm reaching out.

No.

No, he won’t let this happen.

With a bellow from deep within his chest, Wunder hacked away at the branches holding him. They fell to the floor lifelessly, and before another wave of branches assaulted him he charged and leapt at the treant, sinking his blade deep inside the hunchback. A deep satisfaction bubbled onto his lips when he heard Maokai roar in pain, but it didn’t last long. Maokai thrashed and flailed like a raging bull, and Wunder was no matador. His own size worked against him, his legs unable to find purchase as they swung helplessly in the air. Every inch of movement caused his grip to slacken little by little until finally his fingers burned from exertion.

He let go, and the blade faded away.

Wunder managed to tuck in his head and land on his side; it did not make the impact any softer. His ribs stung and he was sure there would be a nasty bruise tomorrow morning, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. The crystal fell to the floor in front of him. If he could just get to it–

_CRASH_

…he didn’t even feel the blow. All he remembered was a flash of darkness as he reached out for the crystal. The next thing he knew he was slumped – no, lodged – against the wall, his entire chest burning and broken, every breath a struggle. His vision blurred, but even through that he could see Maokai lower his gargantuan hand. The treant’s maw of a mouth moved, but Martin couldn’t so much as hear a thing over the ringing in his head. Something salty and metallic reached his lips, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that it was blood. .. / .-- .. ... .... / .-- . / .... .- -.. / -- --- .-. . / - .. -- .

Maokai turned and approach Rasmus once more, and Martin screamed at his body to move. -... ..- - / .. - .----. ... / -.. --- / --- .-. / -.. .. . / -. --- .--

But no luck. Even moving a finger sent a shock of pain throughout his body. -.. --- -. .----. - / .-- --- .-. .-. -.--

Every inch of him hurts. .. / --. --- - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -... .- -.-. -.-

His breath grew shallow. His head lighter. His vision dark. A hand at his chest. .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ...

No.

It can’t end like this.

Not like this.

Not when they’re still in danger.

Martin cursed his weak flesh.

He needed more power.

Needed… More…

_“Are you okay?”_

_He blinked, and looked down at the tiny boy. A pair of grey eyes stared up at him. “Yeah,” he answered, not liking how unsure he sounded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”_

_The boy must have known, much to his chagrin, how uncertain he felt, because the small smile the boy threw his way eased his stormy heart more than it should have. “It’s still your choice, so don’t be afraid to say no, okay? Just follow your heart.”_

_Easier said than done. His heart was a quintessential blank slate, and he never had to make a decision that affected his life like this before. What experience did he have to go on? The boy must have sensed his growing apprehension, because he added, “Whatever happens – whatever you choose – know that I’ll always have your back, alright?”_

_Coming from him, the man could almost believe it._

_He looked up across the chamber, past the sword lodged deep into the pedestal, where three figures stood waiting for them. They were clad in full, sleek armor with their hoods pulled up and wore peculiar masks that made their left eye glow a deep crimson. At their sides were their blades, the base of the hilt adorned with their soul crystals. He imagined himself in that armor, standing beside them, and found that he did not mind the idea at all._

_“I have to go now.” The boy shot him one last grin before the mask materialized on his face. “Good luck.”_

_The boy joined his compatriots on the other side of the chamber, slotting in at the middle-right, and the man was left alone with only his own thought and the blade waiting before him._

_It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? These past few weeks he spent with them after they rescued him had been some of the best in his admittedly short life, and he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days like this. And yet…_

_And yet the world’s big, and he didn’t know himself well enough to know if this was what he really wanted, or if he was only choosing this because this was the first thing that fell onto his lap. The answer could be out there, somewhere, and he’d be tying himself down here if he pulled out that sword. What if, in two or three years he realized that this decision was a mistake?_

_He looked across the room once more, gaze sweeping over the four figures, trying to discern their expressions through their masks. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t need to. They laid down all the cards before he entered this chamber. But they seemed so cold like this, far too quiet for the loudmouths and roughhouses he knew them to be. Except…_

_Except the boy tilted his head to the side when their eyes met. Just a small reminder of who was under that mask._

_He was overthinking this, wasn’t he? So he stopped, cleared his mind, and let himself be carried by the moment. Here and now, what did he want?_

_Flashes of afternoon tea spent pouring over old tomes, hard training sessions that left his muscles sore, cozy afternoons spent watching Hexflix, and rowdy, hearty breakfasts flashed before him. When he put it that way, it seemed so simple, didn’t it?_

_His heart grew warm, and a red light began emanating from his chest._

_…He was still unsure about this decision, unsure about his future, but this was the first time in a long while that he wanted something and he found that he was okay with that._

_His chest burned, but it didn’t hurt a single bit. The red light grew and grew brighter until it was large enough to leave his chest, becoming an orb that floated before him. With a wave of his hand he dispelled the light, revealing a crystal the color of black flecked with bits of red and white. It had changed, he noted. The last time he manifested it, it was black and yellow._

_Upon the pedestal, the sword awakened. Its crossguard, bearing the same pattern as the masks, began to glow as well. Streams of light began flying out of the sword and enshrouded the crystal in a white cocoon. Slowly, the light began to take shape, forming a thin, pointed bottom and a wide frame at the top. When the light dissipated, a key remained floating in front of him, the crystal becoming its head._

_He grabbed the key and jammed it into the base of the hilt._

_“Access Granted: Wunder.”_

_He pulled out the blade._

* * *

Rasmus had no idea what was happening.

One moment Maokai was forcing his jaw open, presenting the seeds he planned to plant in Rasmus inside his larger hand, and in the next–

_SCHWING_

–a flash of light and steel, and in the next moment Wunder pushed Maokai back.

The grip on his jaw slackened, the twig of a hand falling to the floor. Rasmus let himself have a moment to catch his breath before looking up to see what had happened.

Wunder stood with his back to Rasmus, one hand forcing Maokai’s giant arm back while in the other he held… a katana?

Rasmus had no clue where that came from – a very recurring theme for tonight – and how Wunder got it, but considering that just a minute ago his throat went coarse shouting his toplaner’s name, fearing that the worst had come to past, he would take all the blessings they could get.

“W-What?” For the first time that night, the treant seemed genuinely befuddled. Maokai’s expression twisted into a vision of anger and he pressed down, intent on crushing all resistance, but Wunder stood his ground. No. Not just resisted. He pushed _back_.

One step, and then another, and then another. Maokai must have been too surprised to use his branches and yet, at this moment, Rasmus felt that it wouldn’t have mattered. There was _something_ in the air. A sort of pressure that he couldn’t quite put into words. An electricity that danced around the room. If he stuck his tongue out, he could almost taste the sparks. And it all seemed to radiate from Wunder.

“How is this possible?” Maokai asked, the panic clear in his voice. “You’re a–”

Maokai didn’t get to finish his sentence. A loud _click_ went off. Did somebody bring a gun?

“ _Riftrise._ ”

A wave of heat and wind singed Rasmus’ face, followed by a cacophony of sounds that he swore almost formed a tune. He had to close his eyes to protect them from this force, and what he saw when he opened them again left him breathless.

A wire-mesh of red light enshrouded Wunder from neck to toe, clinging so tightly to his figure that Rasmus could see the larger Dane’s muscles popping. The mesh began to take shape, jutting out prominently around his forearms, his lower legs, and around his chest and shoulders. Once the shapes grew solid, the light dispersed, revealing gleaming silver armor where the light had bulged. Underneath it all was a black robe with a strip of red that ran up from his right waist up to somewhere around his heart. The robe hugged Wunder’s form and ended just below the waist, where it was accompanied by a pair of jet-black pants. Rasmus couldn’t tell what the fabric was made of, but whatever it was it appeared light and sturdy.

Wunder raised his head, reared it back, and slammed his forehead against Maokai’s face.

A sickening crunch followed, one that made Rasmus cringe, and Maokai was flung back to the mountain of rubble, kicking up a dust cloud upon his crash.

His luscious captors relaxed their hold, so much so that he collapsed to the ground, surprised at the return of his freedom. Distantly, he registered Luka experiencing the same thing judging by the ‘oof’ he heard. Even Jankos seemed to have snapped back to normal; he muttered a small and confused “Miky? Luka?” before he scrambled to their side. The blow must have broken whatever concentration needed for Maokai to control his plants and the transformed people, but Rasmus’ gaze was drawn to the design of the crossguard on Wunder’s katana.

There was no mistaking it, it was the G2 logo. Rasmus could recognize that samurai head anywhere.

This had to be a dream, right? First Maokai, and now this? This was starting to get too ridiculous to be real. But the pain he felt tonight was real, the fear and uncertainty he saw on Wunder’s face was real, and the sorrow on Miky and Luka’s face was real. If this was a dream, it would have been one that he won’t wake up from.

Rasmus looked up to see Wunder glancing down at him over his shoulder, a single red eye gleaming in the darkness. As if to confirm his suspicious, the light wire-mesh covered Wunder once more from neck to hair, and when the light faded Rasmus was met with the G2 mask with a hood pulled up over it.

The rubble stirred. Wunder turned his attention to Maokai, raised his blade, and charged.

The treant burst out of the dust cloud, bellowing out a huge roar, only to be met by steel to the crest of its head. Wunder drove his sword down the length of Maokai’s body, leaving behind a deep maw of a gash that sent the tree stumbling back. He roared once more, only now in pain. The champion balled his remaining, giant fist and swung it at Wunder, but the toplaner was already on the move, stepping over to Maokai’s right side and delivering another strike that pushed the treant back.

“Is that—” Luka started. “Is that Wunder?”

He didn’t reply, and that was enough of an answer.

Rasmus had never seen Wunder move so fast, so agile. He weaved in and out of danger, diving in to score a clean cut on Maokai’s body, ducking under a wild swing and delivering another blow to the back of the leg that sent the treant down to his knees. The toplaner was the one who set the pace of this match, who took control from the start, and with one arm already gone on Maokai’s side this was Wunder’s fight to lose.

Rasmus almost couldn’t take his eyes off the battle, his heart skipping a beat every time Wunder got a close call and soaring every time his friend got a hit in, but something caught his eye as he tried to follow the fight. Something gleaming blue.

_The crystal._

Rasmus scrambled on all-fours to the crystal and picked it up, resting it gently on his palm. His theory had seemed ridiculous just a few hours before, but with everything that was happening it could possibly be the correct answer. Blue Essence. The crystal was _Blue Essence_. Or at least it looked like it. How that was possible was anyone’s guess, but at least it made sense.

Even after everything that happened tonight, Rasmus almost giggled. _It made sense_. What is his life even?

One, two, three cuts. Wunder’s blade struck Maokai with a hearty _thwack_ , the air singing at the speed he swung. And yet, to Rasmus’ worry, the wounds left on the treant’s body began to close up. This wasn’t healing, he realized; this was regrowth.

A root sprung out of the rubble, catching Wunder by the ankle, and Rasmus could feel the color leave his face. With a mighty groan Maokai’s right hand grew back, and he raised his left arm to smash Wunder into a fine paste. Rasmus jammed his eyes shut. He couldn’t bear witness to this. Not again.

Another _schwing_. No thud followed Maokai’s punch, and Rasmus opened his eyes just in time to see Wunder narrowly dodge the blow. His hood blew this way and that from the force of the punch, his mask a pencil-thin line away from the fist itself.

The sword let out a whirring sound. In that instant, red sparks began to rush up Wunder’s figure, and in a flash of light he disappeared. Rasmus didn’t have to wonder where he went for long as a cacophony of blades descended upon Maokai. It looked like the very air itself swung at the treant. Blow after blow rained down, a crimson blade that scarred the space it cleaved, and it was then that Rasmus realized that this was no act of sword-summoning, but a single blade that moved faster than the eye can see. _Wunder_ moving faster than the eye can see.

The slashes disappeared as sudden as they came, and Wunder skidded to a stop in front of Rasmus, sparks flying from his boots. The armored man looked up, and Rasmus found himself locking eyes with who was _supposedly_ Wunder. A twinge of fear gripped his heart. What if this wasn’t Wunder? What if this was someone who was using his body? Wunder certainly had never moved like that. Or maybe Wunder changed somehow and he was here to kill everyone? Or what if–

But none of that came to pass. Wunder kneeled down before him, sword tucked away and almost gentle, and held out a gloved palm. He said nothing, the mask hiding whatever expression he may have had, and it took Rasmus a moment to understand what he wanted. He place the crystal on Wunder’s palm, their hands brushing for a moment, and the sword spoke again.

“ _Capsulize.”_

A ribbon of light escaped the blade and enveloped the crystal, forming a cylindrical shape. When the light died down Rasmus was met with another familiar sight. A blue and gold champion capsule, the crystal safely encased within it.

Maokai recovered, shaking off the rubble and soot that clung to him. “I don’t care where you obtained this power or how you got it,” the treant growled. “But you will not hurt my grove!” He slammed his fist to the ground, and the building shook. Thick, heavy trees burst out from the wall behind him and rushed towards the group. This was bad. Not even Wunder could dodge or cut through all those trees.

Wunder evidently did not agree. He rose to face the oncoming tide of trees and unscrewed the top of the capsule.

“ _Kayle!_ ” The capsule announced.

He jammed the capsule into a slot at the top of the crossguard and pressed down on the trigger on the handle. Immediately, Rasmus could sense the shift in the air.

“ _Skillrise: Kayle.”_

A silhouette of the angelic champion appeared over Wunder, overlapping with his form for a brief moment before disappearing into motes of light that the sword absorbed. Wunder pulled his blade back, and it began to shine with a golden glow. He stood firm even as the wave of trees inched closer. The blade’s light grew to be somewhere around half as wide its wielder, and when it stopped, Wunder took a step forward and thrusted the air.

The blade of light shot forward, driving a path through the trees to hit Maokai straight in the chest. It pushed him back, burning him and breaking his will over the trees as they dropped uselessly to the floor.

But Wunder wasn’t done. He slammed the pommel of the blade with his palm, pushing a crystal that was lodged there up and down. The sword made one final announcement for the night.

“ _Shardbreak_.”

Rasmus could feel it once more. That power. The spark in the air. All of it gathering for Wunder. The toplaner pulled out his sheath and placed his sword inside it. If it was possible, the pressure in the air intensified. He bent down, spreading his legs, drawing a line on the floor with his left foot as he pulled it back, drawing energy in from God know where. He held his sheathed blade at his side, his right hand hovering over the hilt as red sparks gathered around the G2 symbol.

Maokai roared in defiance, the symbol’s crimson eye glimmered, and Wunder drew his blade.

The world was cut in half.

Not just Maokai, but the walls, the stands, the rubble, and even the very air itself seemed to have been cut. Nothing moved. It was as if time itself had come to a stop when the blade flashed. A straight silver line marked where Wunder had cut, a clean vertical split, and it seemed that the halves began sliding away from each other. Rasmus covered his head in fear of the room falling, but no such thing occurred.

Wunder sheathed his blade.

The world snapped back into place.

Maokai did not.

With one final roar of pain, Maokai was consumed by a fiery explosion, the force of it blowing Rasmus’ hair back and forcing him to squint.

 _He did it,_ Rasmus realized as the explosion died down, a smile blooming on his face for the first time since they entered the studio. _Wunder did it!_

He was about to stand up and say something when YamatoCannon dropped to the floor where Maokai was, out cold.

They could not catch a break tonight, could they?

How!? Why!? What!? Before he could so much as voice these question, the grove underwent its own transformation. The hulking trees that infested the room dispersed into grains of light, freeing the people trapped to the wall as they fell to the floor with a thud, leaving no trace of their existence other than the ruined walls, floors, and furniture.

His gaze went over to Wunder, quite possibly the last person that could prove that what they just went through was real, only to see the toplaner not paying any attention to him. Instead his gaze was locked at an empty spot at the top of the rubble, staring off into nothing.

Wunder’s armor and arms dematerialized, leaving him in his normal street clothes, and he fell to the floor face first, unconscious.

A hand roughly tugged at his arm. “Come on,” Luka said, and it was the first reminder in a while for Rasmus that the rest of his team was behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jankos helping Miky up, their skins clear once more and free of bark and greens. “Come on, we have to go. Help me carry him out.”

“But what about–” _literally everything else_.

“We’ll figure it out later, now let’s go!”

* * *

He waited until the rabble filtered out before he entered the studio.

The raven led him overhead to the main stage, and he had to take careful steps to make sure that he didn’t step on anyone. They sure did a number on this place, the man could feel the force of their battle all the way from the safety of his observation post.

Finally, the raven landed on a piece of rubble besides Jakob Mebdi, and the man grinned with glee when he saw the champion shard still beside the unconscious man. “Perfect,” he said through rows of jagged teeth. He picked up the shard and pressed it against the ex-coach’s chest, phasing it once more into Mebdi’s body. “Not just yet, Mr. Mebdi. We still have use for you yet.” The rune stone, after all had yet to be filled. And it would be a shame to let all of that unresolved pathos and malice go to waste.

The man looked up to the top of the rubble pile and saw a blue, slender figure staring down at him. It floated just above the floor, staring down on him with an expressionless, marble-like face that was carved into the picture of impassiveness, but even then he could feel the anger and hate it threw his way. On its chest a large, blue crystal was set, an azure cloak sprouting out of the fixture and covering its arms and sides. .... . .----. .-.. .-.. / ... - --- .--. / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / .... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. .-.-.-

The man laughed. “Good evening, Keeper,” he greeted, tipping his top hat. “I hope tonight finds you well. Sorry we made a bit of a mess. Would you mind cleaning up after us?”

The sheer disgust the Keeper threw at him was enough to tickle his fancy. It spread its arms wide and the crystal on its chest grew bright, filling the room with light.

When the emergency services came after an anonymous tip they found a few dozen people unconscious on the floor from what appeared to be a gas leak. There were no other traces of damage to the building or to anyone else.


	5. Interlude: The Orange Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special chapter, for what I wished was a happier occasion.

Oskar took a long, hard drag of his cigarette, and coughed when smoke filled his lungs.

What was he even doing? He had promised himself that he would quit this year when he got the contract with Fnatic; a squeaky-clean start to what he was sure would be his best year yet as a pro. He had even promised Jus that they would quit together, which only added to his guilt. That didn’t fucking last long.

Oh, in a general, macro sense everything was going perfectly fine. They were smashing scrims and he was getting along well with the rest of the team. Bwipo and Hyli were nothing short of pleasant and welcoming to work with. Rekkles was a tougher nut to crack, genuine and polite but still somewhat distant. Oskar was willing to let that one lie for a bit until he was sure he could string a few sentences together to the Swede that didn’t involve him devolving into a rabid fanboy.

And then there was Tim.

Oskar exhaled, letting the smoke escape his lips into the Berlin night. Well, technically it was morning, but the sun wasn’t up yet, so, fuck that.

He was man enough to admit ~~to himself and not anyone else~~ that playing together with Neme again had played a huge part in his decision to sign with Fnatic. He probably would have signed either way considering the boost it would give to his career, but the fact that he could reunite with his best friend erased whatever doubts he may have had. He did feel bad about leaving Jus behind, but his friend had sent him off with a hug and a wide grin. “Go get him, Oskar.”

Oskar snorted. If only it were that easy.

He tapped the head of his cigarette, letting burning ash fall to the concrete floor. Had he been too naïve in expecting them to go back to the way they were before? Sure, a year was a decent amount of time, but they couldn’t have changed that much as people, could they?

Because even if Oskar’s room was right next to Tim’s, practically speaking he might as well have been in China.

The most frustrating part was putting a finger on why. On the outside, Tim was still Tim. Still as quiet as a mouse, still as dry as the Saharan dessert. But this silence seemed different somehow. Colder. A silence born from a desire to be so, rather than the shyness and awkwardness Oskar had known back during their MAD days. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy that Tim was getting more and more confident on his own, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want the old Tim back. The Tim he had insane synergy with. The Tim that he could talk with and laugh with for hours on end.

He has someone else for that now, Oskar thought bitterly, taking another long drag of his cigarette. Nowadays, every time he tried so much as to spend time with Tim, like going out for dinner together or watching a movie, it was always LS this or LS that.

“This is the only chance we have to chat with each other, Oskar,” Tim kept saying, as if they didn’t spend whatever small free time they had chatting with one another.

To say that he disliked LS would be an understatement. Oskar believed that even if the American didn’t take up so much of Tim’s time, he would still hate him for his know-it-all attitude and condescending nature, but that was a story for another day.

No, the story here was that even if the walls in the apartment were painfully thin, and even if they were practically whispering to one another over a Discord call, Oskar couldn’t get Neme’s sweet words out of his head. Couldn’t take that he was whispering them to someone else, and that was enough to make Oskar run up to the roof with his tail between his legs and a pack of smokes in his hands.

Pathetic.

Oskar sighed. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe it wasn’t Tim changing and it was just him being the weirdo. And as for LS, it wasn’t like they were dating yet, or at least he hoped not. Tim would have told him if they were, right?

…right?

Oskar stamped out the cigarette butt with more force than necessary and brought his cap down over his eyes. Right, that was enough for tonight. He would just have to hope that LS would magically disappear when he woke up in the morning.

He went to leave the rooftop when the skies lit up, and stars fell from the sky.

One by one the stars burned up, leaving streaks of light that cut open the night sky. Those streaks would disappear not long after, only to be replaced by another falling star. Oskar’s breath hitched. He had never seen anything like this before, and it was positively beautiful. He should go get Neme and–

Oh, right. He was probably still chatting with LS, and God forbid anyone got in the way with that.

After taking a few shots for his Instagram, Oskar just let the moment settle in on its own. This was probably a once in a lifetime event, so he would sear the sight into his mind. The one, and only one, improvement this moment could have was if Nemesis was here beside him.

Now that he thought about it, a meteor shower was like a billion shooting stars, no?

When he opened his eyes after making his wish, a ball of fire the size of his head was shooting towards him.

“Shit!” He dove to the side, hitting the concrete hard. A flash of light, a huge boom. Oskar could feel his lungs burning and skin stinging from the heat, a ceaseless ringing between his ears, and then complete silence. What the fuck just happened?

Oskar took a good minute or two on the floor to gather his bearing, waiting for his heart to stop trying to fight its way out of his chest and for the ringing in his head to stop. Even when he got up, his legs trembled like jelly, and he swung from side-to-side like a drunken man. His stomach clenched, and his dinner poured out of his lips before he could get the chance to swallow it back down.

“Japierdole.” He hunched over, hands on his knees, and heaved. God, this was just not his night, was it?

He craned his neck and squinted at where he had just been. There was a smoking crater there, smaller than he expected given that it was something that fell from the sky, but at least it was proof that he didn’t imagine it.

Now, the logical, smart thing to do was call the fire department and have them deal with this, but nobody had ever accused Oskar of being particularly bright anyway so once the smoke cleared and the heat died down he made his way towards the crater. It was not as big as he thought it would be given the impact, only somewhere around twice the length of his foot and just as wide. Something glowed at its epicenter. Something orange. He poked his head over the crater and – was that a toy? 

“What the fuck?” he asked no one in particular. Of all the things Oskar expected to see fall out of the sky, a gun was at the bottom of the list. And not just a gun, but an orange gun with a Fnatic logo on it. It wasn’t even a sticker or an engraving! Somebody had just taken a Fnatic logo and replaced the barrel of a gun with it, the muzzle coming out of one hand while the other attached itself to the grip and safety, the normally empty spaces filled out underneath the symbol. In all honesty, it reminded Oskar of a nerf gun, but he didn’t remember Fnatic ever having a sponsorship or deal with them, and he certainly remembered that they never came out with merchandise like this.

He reached down to pick the gun up, but just as his hand was about to touch it, a crackle of electricity burst forth from the gun and jolted his hand.

“Kurwa!” Oskar stumbled back and landed on his ass, waving his hand in the air. Fuck, that stung like a motherfucker. Was it static electricity from the fall or something? He reached for the gun once more and drew his hand back as he saw more sparks flying out. Okay, not a toy then.

Right, there was no way he was leaving something like this alone on the roof. Oskar racked his brain for an idea, and a light turned on in his head.

He came back to the rooftop with an empty shoebox, a pair of rubber gloves, and a clamp he stole from the kitchen. He made sure to keep as much distance as possible between the gun and his body as he picked it up with the clamp and dropped it into the shoebox. No more sparks came out thankfully, but Oskar wasn’t taking any chances. He rushed back down to his room and placed the box inside his wardrobe. Collapsing onto his bed, he let the adrenaline flush out of his system. This was not the night he was expecting, not when he practically ran away from Neme and–

_I should tell Neme about this._

And maybe there was a reason why people never said Oskar was particularly smart. Because if he was, maybe he would have realized that the only options waiting for him when he opened Tim’s door wer a) LS and the midlaner still chatting this early into the morning, or b) Nemesis fast asleep.

And maybe, just maybe, if he had rubbed his two braincells together, he would have realized that the correct answer was both.

“Hm,” LS grunted, and Oskar could just imagine that smug face looking up in attention. “Nemmy, buddy, you still awake there?”

The answer was no. Tim was out cold, eyelids firmly shut and snoring softly. At this light, he looked almost peaceful. “Can’t believe he fell asleep again,” LS murmured to himself, but it was caught by the call nonetheless. Oskar chose to ignore the implication that his had happened before.

He waited for LS to drop the call so he could finally, finally have a chance alone with Neme. A beat passed. “Selfmade, is that you?”

All at once, Oskar wished he could rewind time to just a few seconds ago, before he so much as thought about coming in. LS must have heard the door open, and Oskar was the only other inhabitant of the apartment. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh.” LS went silent for a moment. Oskar needed a few seconds to realize that he was waiting for the jungler to explain himself, but by then the analyst was already speaking again. “Did you need something? I think Nemmy fell asleep ten minutes ago,” he asked, like Oskar was the one intruding on their home.

 _Then why are you still on the call with him if you knew?_ Oskar stamped down on the crook in his mind telling him that eavesdropping on their conversation was no better. “I need to borrow his earphones.” There was a time, once, where he wouldn’t have hesitated to swipe them from Neme’s table without asking first. “Never mind, I can ask to borrow them in the morning.”

“…okay then.” Oskar could feel the judgement and suspicion all the way from Korea, could imagine LS looking down at him with that taunting little smirk that just begged to be wiped clean. He bristled. God, if he could just reach through that stupid phone and– “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Can you charge Nemmy’s OnePlus for him? He always complains about it whenever he falls asleep like this.”

Oskar tried very, very hard to ignore the implication that this happened more than once.

“Sure.”

“Great, thank you. Oh, and, uh, tell Nemmy I said good night?”

“I will.” He wouldn’t.

“Cool. Thanks, Selfmade.” And with that, LS finally hung up. Oskar forced himself to breathe in and out, to inhale and exhale, to count down from twenty like his anger management coach taught him. A part of him was spiteful enough to consider ignoring LS’ first request and just letting the phone’s battery die. But he couldn’t, it was Tim’s phone at the end of the day, and the boy loved his OnePlus to bits.

After he plugged in the OnePlus, he stopped and hovered over Tim’s sleeping frame for a moment. He could still wake his friend up, show him the gun that quite literally fell from the sky, and hope against all odds that maybe, just maybe, they could start reconnecting with one another.

Oskar left the room, shutting the door behind him. _Tomorrow_ , he promised himself. _I’ll tell him tomorrow._

He did not.


	6. Game 2: Dreams, Desires, and the Demonic Simulacrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a prelude to malding
> 
> I highly recommend reading this chapter on the desktop/web version and not mobile.

_Wunder woke up at 7:25 on the dot._

_There was no clock in his room to tell the time, nor was there a window for dawn’s light to shine through. He had only ever even seen the sky once. The only reason he knew it was 7:25 was because he had always waken up at 7:25. Because the last time he overslept he was punished with a deafening alarm and an entire day without food. Breakfast would arrive in five minutes, and he would have another five to gulp it all down before the Yellowcoats came in to prep him for the day’s trials and experiments._

_There was nothing much to do as he waited so he stared up, as always,_ _at the sterile ceiling. The same one he had awoken to his entire life and would wake to until the day the Yellowcoats deemed him fit for field work. The day was close, or so he heard from their whispers. Even if his omni-compatibility with the shards did not pan out like they expected it to, he would still be an asset in battle and would join Kobbe soon._

_And so, he waited._

_And waited._

_…and waited._

_It was 7:35._

_He sat up to his bed, a queasy feeling settling in his chest. The food was never late. Not when they had no reason to be. Was this another test? Wunder would not know; the Yellowcoats never informed him of what they had planned unless it was crucial that he knew what was going to happen beforehand. It was practically the only interaction he ever had with them beyond inquiries into his physical state and the occasional teaching sessions to make sure he didn’t come out an uneducated dimwit._

_No matter, then. If this was another experiment, then it was nothing out of the ordinary._

_…but they would have told him something, wouldn’t they?_

_Or maybe that too was part of the test? Considering no instructions had come in, there was no reason for to do anything. Wunder laid down on his bed once more and resumed staring at the ceiling. He would just wait until his instructions came in._

**_BOOM_ **

_A dull bang shook the building. An explosion. Somewhere a few levels below him. A different test? Should he move?_

_Several more explosions followed, one after another. It inched closer and closer until it made his ears hurt and his entire body shudder. Finally, an explosion sounded just outside of his room and the door swung open. A Yellowcoat, disheveled and heaving, burst into his room. Their eyes met, and Wunder scrambled out of his bed. The Yellowcoat opened his mouth._

_“P-Protocol Zeta,” the Yellowcoat said, voice heavy and breathy. “Wunder, protect me–“_

_A ball of darkness turned the corner and took the Yellowcoat’s head off._

_His body fell to the floor, twitching, the wound on his neck already cauterized. Wunder sniffed the air and caught the telltale scent of singed skin, but there was very little heat. Whatever took the man’s head did it through sheer force alone._

_Wunder failed his instructions before he even had the chance to enact them. This would have worried him more if there wasn’t already a man at his doorway, looking down at him with a singular crimson eye and a mask that sent shivers down his spine._

_Thinking about it more, it was obvious that this day would come. He was a weapon, and an important one at that if the Yellowjacket’s whisperings held any truth. Exterminating him while he was still vulnerable was the smart and safe play, and many parties would benefit if he never saw the light of day. The man that stood before him hailed from the worst of the worst, a group of ruffians that spread chaos and terror without care for factions and affiliations, and they would most certainly be interested in removing someone who had the potential to challenge them._

_The explosions near his room have stopped, so this man was obviously responsible for that, but there were still a few distant ones that rattled the building._

_The man entered the room, his feet hovering above the ground. He recognized the basic uniform well enough from some of his educational and intel sessions, but it was modified with the addition of blue and purple armor plates that bore a vision of space and stars. Three dark orbs orbited their figure, and that was enough for Wunder to discern the shards in their possession. The Starforger Aurelion Sol, and Syndra, a powerful mage of legend that once terrorized Ionia. Both very powerful shards that took a skilled hand to use, brought together by a Summonrise to grant even greater might._

_In short, Wunder was screwed._

_The man raised his hand, and the stars froze in attention. They convulsed and pulsed, and Wunder could feel the air being sucked into those stars._

_Ah, this was the end._

_…_

_‘One last time.’_

_‘I want to see the sky, just one last time.’_

_The man’s hand twitched, and the stars shot forward. Wunder closed his eyes and braced himself–_

_–for a blow that never came._

_The wall behind him exploded. He could feel the cool air blowing past him and saw rays of light cutting into the room. It couldn’t be._

_All of his instincts told him to not turn his back on a threat, to keep his eyes on them at all times, but the temptation was too great. He spun on his heel and found the world spread out before him. A blanket of white covered the scenery. ‘Snow’ his mind provided, stretching out as far as the horizon, covering even the highest mountain peaks._

_But the sky. Oh, the sky._

_It surpassed whatever memory he had held to his chest for all these years. Bluer than he remembered, clearer than he remembered. Pure, puffy clouds decorating the scenery. The last time he saw the sky was thirteen years ago, when a particularly kind Yellowcoat had snuck him and the other children outside for an hour. So vast and unending, Wunder could almost drown in the view. It made him realize how small he was, how big the world was, and he found a strange comfort in that knowledge._

_More footsteps at the door. Martin turned around and found three additional figures flanking the first one. The explosions had died down, so those must have been their doing. One wore a pair of large gauntlets, with layers of armor covering their base suit and bulking their frame. Vi and Sett. Another had their base suit modified with a long frock coat and a hooded cloak. In their hands was a pair of pistols and on their back was a cannon nearly twice their size. Lucian and Senna. The last wielded a long staff and wore a mantle at their back that bore the twin dragons of Ionia. Wukong and Karma._

_This all but confirmed his suspicions. Only two organization in Runeterra could hold onto such powerful shards and wield them well, and only one was brazen enough to pull off an attack like this._

_The one in the middle, the one that blew a hole in his wall, landed on his feet. The stars surrounding him dissipated, and it was only then that Wunder that this intruder was small and short. Even with his armor on, Wunder could tell that this man was a veritable stick and barely reached the lab rat’s own height. His hood and helmet dematerialized, revealing a boyish face and a pair of gray eyes._

_“Wunder, right?” the boy asked, looking up to Wunder with an open smile and an outstretched hand. “We’re here to set you free. My name is–”_

* * *

“…Caps,” Martin mumbled in his sleep, eyes fluttering under closed lids.

If it were any other night, Mihael would have held this over the Dane’s head for the rest of his life, but considering everything that had just happened in the last few hours, Martin probably deserved a pass on this one.

Fuck, Martin deserved a shitload of passes after what he pulled off. Mihael still shuddered thinking what would have happened if his friend didn’t come in with the save. Maokai’s howling, hollow voice booming in his head was torture enough. Would he have become like Jankos, a slave to the tree’s will? Would he have had to hurt his friends? Hurt Luka?

His stomach churned, and it took all Mihael had to not empty its content on the floor. _We’re fine_ , he told himself. _We’re back home, safe and sound. We’re all fine._

_Right?_

Whatever the case, emptying his guts out in his friend’s room was not the proper way to thank him. He set down the bowl of water on the bedside table, dipped his towel into it, wrung it out, folded it up and placed it over Martin’s head. The Dane had built up a considerable fever on the taxi ride home, so much so that Luka and Rasmus practically burned up themselves. They even had to rip off his shirt to make sure he wasn’t cooking in it. Aside from that, Martin was practically fine for someone who got slapped across the room. Even with Maokai’s voice echoing in his mind, Mihael could hear the sickening crunch when his toplaner crashed into the wall, could see his friend going limp. At that moment, Mihael was certain Martin had died.

 _He’s alive_. The heat under his palm proof of that fact. Mihael didn’t really believe in miracles, but there was no other way to explain what happened earlier. It looked like something that came out of an anime, and even now he still had trouble believing his own eyes. But they all saw it, the cuts and bruises they accrued were proof of what happened tonight.

But they were not for Martin. In fact, the bruising on his face had already turned to a sickly green, and whatever cuts had opened up after his fight with Maokai had already closed. At this point, Mihael couldn’t scrounge up the energy to question it.

Once he was sure that Martin was sufficiently cooled, he placed the towel back in the bowl and made to leave the room. The Dane was still restless in his sleep, but there wasn’t much Mihael could do about that. Everyone else should be set up in the gaming room now, so he would go check up on them next.

He opened the door and found Luka waiting on the other side.

“Hey,” his ex-boyfriend said. “How’s he holding up?”

“His fever’s still high,” Mihael replied. “We’ll probably have to check up on him all night long.” Not that he was planning on sleeping anyway, even if he was capable of it, so it worked out.

Luka breathed a sigh of relief. A beat of silence passed. “…and you? How are you holding up?”

“I’ll live,” he answered, because even after all that happened he was sure Luka could see right through him.

“You look like shit,” was what Luka had to say to that. “Rasmus already looked you over, right? Maybe you should go to bed, I can take over from here.”

He really didn’t want to, for fear of what he would see beneath his closed eyelids. “Later, Luka,” he replied tiredly.

And maybe, just maybe, Mihael wanted Luka to step up to him, take him by the wrist, and drag him all the way back to his room like he used to. There, Luka would lay the support on his bed and bury him under layers of blankets, comforters, and pillows. Finally, the then-ADC would slip into the bed as well and put his arms around Mihael, resting his head on the crook of the Slovenian’s neck, as he would always do when the days were hard and long.

It seemed Luka considered it too. His hand twitched ever so slightly, reaching out towards Mihael’s wrist. But no, he stopped. Pulled back even. “Okay,” his captain said, somewhat clipped. “Join me in the gaming room? We should probably talk about… well, everything, I guess.”

Mihael expected it, but even then his heart still sank. Was he foolish to think that things would go back to the way they were after what happened tonight? Waking up in Luka’s lap, his former partner’s hand in his hair, felt like a dream come true. Like he was taken all the way back to spring last year, back when they still lived in bliss and harmony, before all the stress and pressure got to them.

Mihael wished he could put all of that to words, tell Luka how he really felt and beg him to come back, but he couldn’t. He knew Luka well enough to know that the feelings they shared still lied within him, which made his decision to break up with Mihael all the more terrible. “Sure,” was all he ended up saying, and he followed Luka like an obedient dog.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Jankos whined, wincing back as Rasmus dabbed a disinfectant lobbed cotton swab on a cut on the Pole’s forehead. Out of all of them, Jankos came out of the ordeal the most banged up, owing to their more prolonged ordeal earlier in the night.

“Hold still, I’m almost done,” Rasmus chastised, placing a band-aid over the cut. They sat in their gaming chairs; the first aid kit laid out on the table. The ADC was virtually untouched save for a few scrapes, which made him the perfect candidate to fix everyone up (he wouldn’t be otherwise thanks to his shaky hands and general clumsiness). Mihael thanked whatever lucky stars he had that Rasmus wasn’t hurt. He didn’t know what he would do if that had happened.

“And done!” Rasmus cheered, looking mighty proud of his work.

“Thanks Rasmus,” Jankos said, uncharacteristically unenthusiastic. He stumbled out of his chair, limped all the way to the sofa, and gingerly set himself down on it, releasing another set of “Ow, ow, ow.”

Rasmus looked up and saw them coming in. “Your turn, Luka.”

“That’s me,” Luka said. “We’ll have to have a talk after this.”

Not the talk Mihael wanted, but important nonetheless. Luka plopped himself on the seat Jankos had just occupied and Rasmus went to work. Their captain hardly came out spotless either, the struggle with the jungler leaving red and blue marks on his face.

With little else to do, he joined Jankos on the sofa. At first he thought the Pole wouldn’t notice his approach, too busy writhing in pain, but no. As if sensing his approach, Jankos looked up and gave him a shaky but nonetheless genuine smile. “Miky,” he greeted. “Please tell me you’re here to kiss my wounds. I’m sure it would make them feel better.”

“No such luck, I’m afraid.” Mihael took a seat next to the jungler, not even batting an eye at Jankos’ ridiculous flirting.

“Are you suuure?” Jankos slurred. “If you do, I promise I’ll gank botlane every game.”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” Leave it to Jankos to make a complete fool of himself after a completely harrowing experience. Still, Mihael couldn’t erase the image of the jungler jumping in between him and Maokai, letting himself get captured just so the support could run away with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. “How are you doing?”

“Better than I expected, honestly. Especially considering, well, you know…” Jankos pulled up the neckline of his shirt and took a peek of his body. Mihael didn’t blame him, even now his hands still traced the patches of skin where flesh became bark and then flesh again, just to make sure. When he looked up, Jankos was staring at him with eyes softer than usual. “What about you, do you feel anything weird?”

Other than everything in his life right now? “Not really,” he replied, stretching his hands and fingers to feel the muscle there. “Some part of me still can’t believe it’s all real, you know?”

“Right.” Jankos coughed into his elbow. “Did you, uh – did you wake up at all when you were in the cage?”

“No. Or at least I don’t think so. It all went black after Maokai caught up to me, and next thing I knew I was staring up at Luka.” He expected the Pole to begin yammering on about whatever again, but no sound came out in reply. Mihael glanced to the side and found Jankos staring intently at his ribs, pressing a finger on it and wincing. “Jankos.”

“Hm, what?”

“…Did you wake up?”

Jankos hesitated for a moment before answering. “For a bit. I saw Maokai come in with you on his shoulder.”

 _Fuck_. Mihael could only imagine what a disappointing sight that was. Jankos practically gave up his own life for the support, only for his sacrifice to bear no fruit. If he were the Pole, he would be livid. “Thank you, by the way,” he said, letting his voice go softer than it usually would for Jankos. “For what you did back there. If you hadn’t – well, I still got caught in the end but I’m—”

“Miky,” Jankos interrupted. “It’s fine. Even if I knew what was going to happen I would still do it anyway. You’re safe now, that’s all that matters.”

Something soft settled in Mihael’s chest. “Yeah, well, I hope I can pay you back someday. Somehow.”

For a moment, he could see a flush spread on the jungler’s pale cheeks, his lips parting just a tiny bit. It wasn’t that bad of a look, considering Jankos’ usually dreadful visage. Maybe the man would be halfway handsome if he kept that expression on for a while. But then his lips widened into a wicked grin. “Well I know of a few ways you can pay me back.”

_And there it is._

Mihael rolled his eyes. Honestly, couldn’t Jankos just take a thank you like a calm, non-annoying, well-adjusted member of society? “Yeah, maybe I can let you out of your doghouse once every two weeks now.”

“Aww, Miky, you do appreciate me!”

“Yeah, well, a broken clock is correct twice a day I guess.”

“Does that mean you’ll appreciate me again soon?”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” He felt a pair of eyes on the side of his head. He craned his neck towards them, looking past Jankos, and found Luka staring at him with a strange, empty expression on his face. Their gazes met, and Mihael was determined to not lose this time. To not be the first one to look away even as the shame and regret crept up his spine. Finally, Luka gave him a shaky smile and went back to conversing with Rasmus.

Mihael let out a breath. Luka still loved him; he was sure of it. The support settled into silence, only half listening to Jankos as he yammered on about some random topic or other. He just needed to find a way to remind Luka of what they had, but how?

He almost didn’t notice Rasmus taking a seat next to him, or that Luka was standing in front of them now, face cleaned up and marked with bandages. “All right,” their captain began. “We should probably talk about what happened tonight.”

Nobody said a word, a blessing considering Jankos was in the room.

Luka’s gaze swept over the three of them. “…Do any of you want to talk about what happened tonight?”

Again, no one answered. Mihael thanked whatever lucky stars he had left. He was having an amazing time _not_ thinking about it all.

Luka sighed, probably out of annoyance, but there was a hint of relief in there too. “Fine, we’ll talk about this in the morning. Right now, you should all just go to bed.”

Nobody moved.

“…Do any of you _want_ to go to bed?”

Nobody answered. Rasmus raised his hand up in the air.

“Yes, Rasmus?”

“If no one wants to go to bed, then maybe we could have a movie night?”

It seemed utterly ridiculous and irresponsible considering what happened less than an hour ago, but no one objected. In fact, everyone’s eyes met each other at least once, and a silent agreement was formed. “I’ll get the blankets,” Rasmus volunteered.

Jankos jumped up, wincing. “I’ll get the snacks!”

“I’ll check Netflix for something we can watch. “ Maybe something lighter today. A comedy maybe?

Luka could only laugh softly as his team shuffled around the room to gather those things. Soon enough, the couch was a mountain of blankets and pillows, the four players firmly buried underneath it all. An array of chips and sodas were laid out on the coffee table and some family movie Mihael had found was playing on the TV. The door to Martin’s room was open and well lit; they took turns checking up on him every few minutes.

Were they running from the problem? Ignoring the elephant in the room? Most definitely. But Maokai’s words stuck to his brain like a tumor, and Mihael knew that whatever happened was far from over. At least let him have this one chance at bliss.

Halfway through the movie, Luka blinked and turned to Jankos. “Hey, did you even pick up your stuff in the end?”

Jankos’ eyes widened, and he frantically patted his pockets. " _Nosz kurwa!_ "

* * *

The sharp-dressed man surfaced from a pool of water and onto the rooftop, his coat billowing in the night despite its wettened state. He tipped his hat at the raven perched atop an air conditioning unit and began drawing a symbol in the air with misshapen, grotesque nails. He began with a circular exterior and then moved inwards. Inside he drew three capsules in the middle, separated by two spears with a three-leaf clover head. Finally, he clawed two arrows that flanked both sides of the combined capsules.

The sigil came to life with a crimson glow. The raven squawked and leapt off its perch. It flew headfirst into the symbol and it transformed into a hole in the middle of the air. A portal if you would.

The man cracked his neck, licked his lips, and stepped into the portal.

* * *

  
# The_Demonic_Simulacrum  
  


_\- Forneus has logged into the Simulacrum -_

* * *

Kimaris  
youre late  


* * *

Forneus  
I do apologize, my shadowy friend, but given the events that has transpired tonight, it is somewhat understandable that I be a little late, no? I came as soon as I was finished with my business.  


* * *

Kimaris  
bullshit  
i can smell the rotten meat all the way from here  
you went out for a snack  


* * *

Forneus  
It’s been a long day, surely a bite or two wouldn’t hurt anyone.  


* * *

Astaroth  
I agree  
You should always treat yourself after a hard day at work  


* * *

Forneus  
See. Astaroth understands.  


* * *

Kimaris  
dont encourage him  


* * *

Raum  
Enough.  
**@Forneus** Make sure it does not happen again.  


* * *

Forneus  
As you say, boss.  


* * *

Raum  
Right then, let’s get to business.  
It appears that the Keeper has thrown a wrench in our plans.  
What was supposed to be a worldwide dispersal of the Shards has been downsized to encompass the Berlin metropolitan area. As of right now, there are approximately 120 Champion Shards scattered all over the city and the surrounding regions, some have already found a host.  


* * *

Astaroth  
120? Missing a big chunk there aren’t we  


* * *

Raum  
Some of the stronger willed ones managed to alter their trajectory, and a few locals got their hands on them too.  


* * *

Forneus  
I sensed at least two heading to Greece and a few more heading to Britain.  


* * *

Kimaris  
three in japan  


* * *

Astaroth  
Can confirm  


* * *

Forneus  
Do you want us to hop on over and retrieve them?  


* * *

Raum  
The offer is appreciated, but unnecessary. We’ll deal with them in due time. Right now, we have other matters to attend to.  
We expected the Keeper to interfere in some way, and it appears that they’ve given up on trying to contain the Shards from entering this world. Instead, the Keeper has forcibly shifted the stage and sent out someone to oppose us.  
  
  


* * *

Astaroth  
Oh ho ho  
He’s cute  


* * *

Kimaris  
and a threat  
how is a summoner here  
and why didnt **@Forneus** kill him when he had the chance  


* * *

Forneus  
It’s called politeness, Kimaris.  
It would be terribly rude of me to take someone’s life when I haven’t even introduced myself to them yet. Of course, I don’t expect you to understand given your mediocre understanding of the humans you oh so love to torment.  


* * *

Kimaris  
you watch your overgrown tongue before I cut it out, tahm  


* * *

_\- Raum has muted Kimaris -_

* * *

Raum  
Easy, Kimaris.  
I would like to remind you with who’s Authority we speak with here, and what name we use.  


* * *

_\- Raum has unmuted Kimaris -_

* * *

Kimaris  
hmph  


* * *

Raum  
For your first question, I believe the Keeper had a hand in that. The boy is even in possession of the demi-aspect Kayle’s shard. As for the second, that is because I told him not to.  


* * *

Kimaris  
WHAT  
WHY  


* * *

Raum  
Because it would serve no purpose.  
The boy alone can never stop us, only slow us down.  
And I do believe that the Keeper has put down a very volatile piece on the board. We could use this to our advantage, if necessary.  


* * *

Astaroth  
You want us to leave him alive?  


* * *

Raum  
No. If he is in your way, or you have the opportunity to kill him, then by all means don’t hold back. But don’t waste your time or resources going after him just yet. Every Shard is another fabric of this world torn apart, more Rune Factor for us to gather. You’re better off letting them go on rampage and have the boy stop them eventually rather than waste them on a plan that may not work. Are we clear?  


* * *

Astaroth  
Yes  


* * *

Forneus  
Yes.  


* * *

Raum  
**@Kimaris** I asked a question.  


* * *

Kimaris  
…yes  


* * *

Raum  
Excellent.  
Now on to our second agenda. Astaroth, Kimaris, both of you are to abandon your current posts and join Forneus in Berlin. No reason to spread ourselves thin when the Keeper is willing to take an uneven fight.  


* * *

Astaroth  
And what about you?  


* * *

Raum  
I will stay in America for a few more weeks, and then I’m off to suppress the more problematic Shards before they can interfere with our activities. I will be sending **@Camio** in my stead.  


* * *

Kimaris  
great  
the clown is joining us  


* * *

Raum  
As for you, Forneus. I believe that you’ve reinserted the Maokai shard into Jakob Mebdi?  


* * *

Forneus  
They are both slumbering as we speak.  


* * *

Raum  
Wait until the boy is in his vicinity once more before reactivating him. There is something I wish to try out. My emissary should be there with another Shard. Do not use it for anything else.  


* * *

Forneus  
Duly noted.  


* * *

Raum  
That is all. Good luck, and may Noxus protect you.  


* * *

_\- Raum has disconnected from the Simulacrum -_

* * *

Astaroth  
I must say  
This is getting far more interesting than I thought it would be  
And here I thought I was going to have make my own fun  


* * *

Kimaris  
of course you find this fun and interesting  


* * *

Astaroth  
It takes two to tango, after all  
And it’s no fun if they don’t struggle at all, Kimmy  


* * *

Kimaris  
dont call me that  


* * *

Forneus  
Whatever the case, our mission remains the same, does it not?  


* * *

Kimaris  
and dont pretend like you care about our mission  
im watching you both  


* * *

_\- Kimaris has disconnected from the Simulacrum -_

* * *

Forneus  
Such a sensitive soul.  


* * *

Astaroth  
Assuming he has one.  


* * *

Forneus  
Anyway, it appears that you and I will meet up again very soon.  


* * *

Astaroth  
I am very much looking forward to it  


* * *

Forneus  
As am I  


* * *

Astaroth  
Ah  
But about that  
I will be a little late to the party I’m afraid  
I have a detour to India I want to make first  
Need to check a few things out  


* * *

Forneus  
Heh, naughty girl. You know he _will_ find out. In fact, I’m pretty sure he already knows.  


* * *

Astaroth  
I know  
But he can’t afford to get rid of me  
Not this early into the game  


* * *

Forneus  
…are you even in Korea right now?  


* * *

Astaroth  
Japan  
Went to that rock we talked about  


* * *

Forneus  
Ah. Tell me all about it when you get here then.  


* * *

Astaroth  
I will  
Don’t have too much fun without me.  
Good tidings to you, River King  


* * *

Forneus  
And to you, Princess of Agony  


* * *

_\- Astaroth and Forneus has disconnected from the Simulacrum -_

* * *


	7. Game 2: Restart//Reawakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating last week. Real life got a bit hectic for me. Hoping to get back to a weekly schedule, and if not then an update every other week.

Ten stars encircled the figure in blue, azure sun at their back, the world under their feet, and they dove headfirst at the oncoming darkness.

The first to challenge them was a raven clad in crimson lightning, who called down a furious storm that hammered down at the figure.

The second assailant came in the form of a gargantuan catfish that tried to swallow the figure whole.

The third was a man clad in shadows with blades jutting out of his arms. He rode in on a horse – no, wait, his legs _were_ the horse. His body cut off just above the waist and attached itself to where a saddle would be.

The stars around the figure shone. A navy star formed a shield that held back the onslaught of lightning. A yellow star shot bee-like stingers at the horseman. They avoided being eaten when a cyan star enshrouded them, and they kicked the catfish away with legs empowered by a red star.

But a fourth passed by unnoticed, appearing in a blink as a bundle of violet ribbons in front of the azure sun. It jammed a pair of stingers into its surface, and the azure sun shook.

The distraction was momentary, but that was all it took. As soon as the figure – the Keeper – turned his head to check on the sun, their enemies pounced. They laid into the Keeper with claws, teeth, and blades, tearing away the stars that encircled him until all that was left was a single, black and red star.

The bundle of ribbons disappeared, its job done, and the rest followed suit, nine stars safely in hand. But the Keeper was not finished. The final star unveiled into a gargantuan blade, and they threw one last swing at their assailants. The sword clipped the raven’s wing and one of the stars in its possession, an orange one, fell to the world. They made no attempt to recover it and disappeared in a blood-red haze, leaving the Keeper all alone.

The azure sun leaked. Blue crystals popping out of the slit the violet ribbons made, and the Keeper knew that he had failed. There was no reversing this, but he could blunt the damage done, throw a wrench into their plans. He redirected the slit, aimed it at the world below, Germany to be exact, and cut the sun open even wider. Hundreds of crystals poured out into the world below, vaguely in the direction of Europe, and the Keeper followed, picking out two crystal that he knew would be useful to his chosen warrior.

It wasn’t until the Keeper dove headfirst into him that Martin realized his own existence. The last thing he saw before he woke up was a statuesque face rushing towards him, a star in one hand and crystals on the other.

* * *

Martin bolted upright, panting, heart kicking in his chest. Distantly, he could hear someone grunt in pain. _Fuck_ , he thought, bare chest heaving as he gulped in air. _What the fuck was that?_ He had had weird dreams before, but nothing so vivid as that. And so memorable too, usually by the time the panic set in he would have forgotten all about the dream already. No, this one stayed in his mind, the face of that blue figure etched into his eyes—

Wait, bare chest?

He looked down, and sure enough, found his bare torso. _Huh, that’s weird_. He rarely, if ever, slept naked, let alone during the winter. And it’s so bright too. Martin had to squint as he surveyed the room. Did he wake up late?

His eyes landed on a figure sitting on his floor, still blurry due to his own drowsiness. It was only after he rubbed his eyes and shook the cobwebs off of his head that he realized who it was. “Rasmus?”

The ADC was splayed out on the floor, as if he had just fallen there, and was rubbing his forehead in pain. At his side was a spilled bucket of water and a wet towel. Martin had to tilt his head to the side at the sight. What was Rasmus doing in his room?

Wait. He was naked. Rasmus was in his room.

“Rasmus!” he cried, pulling up his comforter over his naked chest, a flush filling his cheeks. “What are you doing in my room!?”

Rasmus blinked up at him, and a wide smile spread across his lips. “You’re awake,” he stated, smile turning into a pearly white grin. “You’re awake!” He scrambled up to his feet, almost slipping on the spilled water.

“Wait here,” he said, as if Martin was going anyone else. “I’m going to go get Miky.” And with that he bolted out the door, leaving the toplaner utterly dumbfounded.

 _Miky?_ What would Miky have to do with—

All at once, the events of last night came rushing back to him. The studio, Miky and Jankos, Maokai, the sword. It all came back to him, sending his head ringing. _It wasn’t a dream. It really happened_. He glanced back down at his chest, which should have been a caved-in mess of blood and ribs. _Even if it doesn’t look like it_.

He heard a pair of footsteps echoing through the hallway, and not long after Miky burst through the door, Rasmus trailing behind him. “Wunder,” he sighed, the relief plain on his face. “You’re awake. You’re okay.”

“So are you,” Martin replied scanning his support for any bark or leaves.

“All thanks to you.” Miky joined him on the mattress, while Rasmus took a seat on a chair pressed up to his bedside. “So, you remember?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He went through the events in his head. “We went to the studio to find Miky and Jankos. Found Maokai instead. There was a whole thing with the crystal and then I—” his head split at that exact moment, and he clutched his head once more.

“Wunder?” Rasmus asked.

“I’m fine,” Martin brushed him off.

The other Dane did not look convinced. “Do you remember what happened after that?”

“I-I think so. I _know_ what happened, I know I fought Maokai, but I don’t really remember doing it? It’s hazy.” Just thinking about it gave Martin a headache. Rasmus and Miky shared a look between themselves, and he knew he must have sounded insane. “Like I watched it happen instead of actually doing it, if that makes any sense.”

Rasmus scratched his head. “I think I get it.”

“Where is the crystal anyway? And the sword?”

“We were hoping you knew,” the support answered. “They just kinda disappeared when you went back to normal.”

Great, more questions. “And everyone else?” One final, crucial piece of information came to his mind; one that sent a shiver down his spine and his heart pumping. “And Yamato? Am I remembering it right, right? Yamato was—”

“Maokai, yeah,” Miky confirmed, lips set into a grim, thin line. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a loud rumbling from Martin’s stomach interrupted him. It was only then that the toplaner noticed how hungry he was, and Miky let out a chuckle. “We should probably wait for Luka and Jankos to come back to have this conversation.”

“Come back? From where?”

“The studio. They’re checking things out after what happened. In the meantime, you should take a shower. You smell like shit.”

Martin wanted to point out that they were gamers and smelling like shit was the default setting, but suddenly Rasmus’ hand was clasped over his forehead. “Hmm. You’re still a little warm, but your fever broke so I think you should be fine for a shower.”

The warmth wasn’t from any fever. “Wait, I had a fever?”

“A huge one. If you still had it for another day, we would have brought you to a hospital.”

“Another day? How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Miky answered. “Three if you count the night it all went down.”

Three days?” What the hell was going on with his body? “Y-Yeah, I think I’m going to take a shower.”

“Great,” Rasmus clapped his hands together. “In the meantime, we’ll order you some food. Burgers or Chinese?”

“Burgers. Jumbo ones. I’m starving.”

After a quick shower where he spent more time checking himself over for wounds than actually scrubbing himself (there were none, and Martin didn’t know if that was good or bad), he sat down at the dinner table with Rasmus and Miky, their McDonalds order laid out in front of them. The intoxicating scent of grilled patties filled his nostrils, and he chowed down hard on his burger. Once that’s done, he dug into his fries, and found himself disappointed when his hand reached out and found the bottom of the pile. His stomach still felt empty.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I nick some of your fries?” He turned to his teammates, and found them wide-eyed and slack-jawed, their own burgers untouched. “What? Something wrong with my face?”

“No, it’s just…” Rasmus bit his lip. “You’re really hungry, huh?”

“Like I said, starving. So, the fries?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Rasmus handed his pack of fries over to Martin, and the taller man accepted it gleefully. He also made special note that Miky kept his head down throughout this exchange and huddled his own fries closer, as expected.

“Thanks Ras, you’re the best,” Was all he said before he tore through the fries, and once those were done, he raided the fridge for anything that could fill him up. He ended up settling on a Kiwi that he ate uncut and with the skin on, ignoring the strange looks he got from his friends.

Just as they finally finished eating, they heard the front door open and a pair of footsteps at the foyer. “Yo,” Jankos greeted as he entered the room, Luka tailing behind him. “Good to have you back, Wunder.” The pole’s eyes scanned the table. “Wait you guys ordered McDonald’s without me? Why didn’t you tell me, it’x my cheat day!”

“Sucks to be you, huh?” Miky teased.

“Jankos, we already ate on our way back.” Luka rolled his eyes and turned to Martin, a smile playing on his lips. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

Martin scratched the back of his neck. “Better than I thought I would be.”

“So, you remember everything?”

“Sort of. Everything went fuzzy after Maokai threw me into the wall. There was this light and then…” The ringing came back. Martin pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to stop it.

Rasmus looked up “Wunder, if it hurts…”

“It’s fine.” Martin tried to give Rasmus a smile. “It’s like I was on autopilot after that. I know I fought Maokai and I transformed into whatever that was—”

“Yeah, is no one going to mention the part where Wunder transformed into a G2 samurai?” Jankos piped up.

Luka huffed. “I don’t even want to think about that part yet. Maokai was weird enough.” He shook his head. “Whatever the case, and believe it or not, we have more important things to talk about.”

“You guys just got back from the studio, right?” Martin asked. “Mind catching me up on everything I missed while I was out?”

“Yeah.” Luka took a seat at the head of the desk, and Jankos took the last spot. “After you passed out, all of Maokai’s trees disappeared and everybody went back to normal.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. All of our phones started working too, so we put in an anonymous tip to the cops about the studio and then called a cab before they got there.”

“We told the driver we were in a bar fight,” Rasmus chimed in.

“So everyone’s okay?” Martin asked. “Did they remember anything?”

“Firstly, to an extent,” Miky answered. “Everyone was still passed out by the time emergency services got there, but otherwise they’re fine. Most of them got discharged from the hospital last night, even. And to the second…” The support shook his head. “Nope, no one remembered a thing.”

Martin suspected as much, given that they were still left alone to their devices. “Well then what do the police think about what happened? The studio is still damaged even if Maokai’s trees aren’t there anymore.”

A blanket of silence passed over the table, his teammates’ eyes shifting from one to another. “Well?”

Jankos coughed. “That’s why we went to the studio today, which, by the way, I got my stuff back, but the police and the LEC are saying that a gas leak caused everyone to pass out.”

“A gas leak? But there’s a literal hole in the roof!”

“No there isn’t,” Luka replied. “That’s why Jankos and I went to check out the studio. We couldn’t go in, but we got to ask around the police and staff still there and they said that there wasn’t that much damage. Not even to the walls. It’s like the damage Maokai did to the building last night didn’t happen.”

“Could they be covering it up?” Miky asked.

“I don’t know. Possibly? But we did get pretty close and didn’t see any real damage, not even the ones I saw last night. And there’s no sign of construction work either. There’s no way they fixed it all up that quickly.”

Mysteries upon mysteries. Still, Martin was somewhat glad that nothing led back to them so far. The last thing he needed were the police taking him and his team into questioning.

“There’s one more thing I need to confirm,” Martin said, and he dreaded the answer. “You already answered me, Miky, but I need to be sure. Last night, after I defeated Maokai, he became Yamato, right?”

His gaze swept over the table, and their silence spoke volumes. Finally, Rasmus nodded.

“Okay.” Martin breathed through his teeth. “Okay. And where is he now?”

“Last I heard he was already discharged from the hospital,” Miky added. “I don’t—I don’t know this, personally. I haven’t contacted him since that night, and only really heard about it through the grapevine.”

“All right.” Martin sighed. “I think I’m going to go check in on Yamato.”

All at once the table exploded into a cacophony of arguments. Martin could barely hear his own thoughts over the yelling of his teammates.

“Are you insane!?” That was Luka.

“Shouldn’t we be making this decision as a team?” That was Rasmus.

“I’m coming with you.” That was Miky.

“WHAT.” That was Jankos.

“Yamato would never do something like this,” he raised his voice over all the others even as they continued arguing. “I know him, and he would never hurt a fly, let alone his co-workers and players.”

“Wunder, we just spent the other night fighting off killer trees and a video game character. I feel like your frame of reference is a little outdated here,” Luka shot back.

“All the more reason to see how he’s doing,” Miky argued. “He’s the key to all of this. If we figure out what happened to him, we figure out what happened at the studio. He could be as much as a victim as we were.”

Jankos piped in. “It’s not our job to figure this out. We barely escaped with our lives last time. It’s too dangerous.”

“He was your coach too.”

“Yeah, like five years ago. I don’t even know him that well. People change, and Luka’s right, we don’t know what magical bullshit is happening here. It’s too risky for us to go to him.”

“You won’t,” Martin cut in. “I can go by myself.”

“You’ve barely been awake for an hour,” Rasmus said. “You need to rest up a bit before you can go out again. Make sure nothing wrong is happening to you.”

“The last time I ignored my gut, you two got captured,” Martin rebutted, heart set. “I’m not making the same mistake again.”

“And I’m coming with you,” Miky added.

“No!” Luka and Jankos yelled.

“Neither of you are going,” Luka affirmed. “Not until we have a better idea about what’s happening.”

Rasmus scrunched his face in thought. “To be fair, we don’t have any other leads to go on. We don’t know where to start with the League connection either.”

“I know it’s risky, but this is our best shot at figuring things out, and I really feel like this isn’t over yet.” A memory came back to him. “Back then, after Maokai turned back into Yamato, I saw a crystal like the one I had fall to the floor. Did any of you pick it up?”

A chorus of no’s came out.

“All the more reason then,” Miky commented.

“That crystal is the key to all of this,” Martin stated. “If it’s still out then there’s no telling what might happen.”

“We don’t even know where yours went,” Jankos replied. “Or the sword even. And what if the crystal _is_ still with Yamato and he becomes Maokai again? How will you guys defend yourselves?”

The possibility did occur to him, but for some reason it didn’t worry Martin that much. “I’ll figure something out.”

The jungler pulled at his hair. “This is insane.”

Luka bit his lip, looking between his support and toplaner. “You two are really determined to go through with this, aren’t you?”

“He’s our friend,” Miky answered, almost a challenge.

“He helped us out a lot while we were trying to find our footing in the league,” the Dane explained. “We owe him that at least. Even if he did what he did on purpose then at the very least I want an answer.”

Their captain looked between them one more time, and then sighed. “Fine. But if anything happens you call us immediately.”

“Luka, are you serious?” Jankos hissed.

“If you want to try and stop them when they’re like this, go ahead.”

“Miky—”

“No,” Miky shut the Pole down immediately, and then whipped out his phone. “I’m going to invite Yamato out for a walk, maybe see if we can get him somewhere quiet and isolated.”

Yamato replied with an affirmative not long after, and they agreed to meet at a park not far from their apartment within an hour. The place was fairly empty during the weekdays and there shouldn’t be anyone there to interfere once they head deeper inside.

As Martin was getting ready to head out, Rasmus stepped into his room and knocked on the door. “Hey, you got a second?”

“Sure.” Miky took forever in the bathroom anyway, so he had the time.

“Great.” Rasmus waddled over to his bed and took a seat there. “I want to talk about what happened the night before everything went down.”

“The meteor shower?” Another elephant in the room they never really got into.

“Yeah.” Rasmus scratched the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “I read up a bit about it while you were asleep and, uh, I guess it wasn’t really natural, was it?”

More and more he cursed himself for not just going to bed after waking up that night. “Probably not.”

Rasmus nodded, and then hesitated. “Wunder, can you…” he twiddled his fingers together. “Can you be honest with me for a second?”

Martin blinked. This was not what he was expecting. “Of course. Rasmus, is there something wrong?”

“No! It’s just…” Rasmus bit his lip. “Did something happen to you that night? When we were about to go down you just kind of stopped there, and after that you were crying and holding onto the crystal. You didn’t pick it up, did you?”

Martin had no response to that, and his lie was all but confirmed.

“Be honest with me,” Rasmus begged. “What happened up there?”

“I-I don’t know,” Martin finally admitted. “It felt like somebody brushed past me, and the next thing I know I was holding a crystal in my hand.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it back then?”

“…I didn’t want to worry you – and I thought I was imagining things back then.” He didn’t dare talk about the emptiness he felt when it happened, about the name that he forgot. “Not really an excuse now after all that’s happened, huh?”

For a moment, it looked like Rasmus wanted to say something else, but in the end, he hesitated and shook his head. “Do you think the meteor shower and what happened in the studio are connected?”

“Seems kind of likely, doesn’t it?” It would only be logical for the crystals to appear around the same time.

“Then I have a theory,” Rasmus said, a bundle of nerves as he bumped his knuckles together. “What if the shooting stars we saw last night weren’t stars? What if they were…”

“…crystals,” Martin finished, paling at the thought. A part of him already thought that if Kayle and Maokai were already present, there was nothing stopping crystals of the other champions from existing, but the stars that fell that night seemed almost infinite. Still, they had no solid proof of that, and the Yamato matter was more pressing. He threw his arm around Rasmus’ shoulder and pulled him in. “Hey, we don’t know for sure, alright? And even you’re right, we’ll figure something out.”

“We always do,” Rasmus continued, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Exactly.” He gave the other boy a little shake. “We’ll bring it up with the others once me and Miky come back.”

Rasmus looked up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“It feels like you’ve been making a lot of promises lately,” Rasmus mumbled, hiding his face from Martin.

Martin could only chuckle at that. He had, hadn’t he? “And I haven’t broken one yet.”

“I suppose you’re right,” the ADC said, letting out his own chuckle. “Hey, I know I didn’t really say anything during the meeting earlier, but I’m behind you and Miky on this one. I trust you, a-and whatever happens, just know I’ll always have your back, alright?”

“I know,” the Dane replied, and he let his heart soar for just a moment.

Rasmus’ words carried him all the way to the park. It made Martin stand tall and firm, both feet planted on the ground. He and Miky waited at the park’s entrance for Yamato. They planned to lead him deeper into the park, away from prying eyes and ears and hopefully far enough that, if anything were to happen, no one would get caught in the crossfire. That being said, the place was desolate as it was, with barely a soul in sight.

Miky pocketed his phone and turned to Martin. “He said he’s coming around the block. Do you remember the script?”

“I still don’t think we need a script. We just need to talk to him. Figure out where his head is at.”

“This can get dangerous if we’re not careful here,” Miky chided. “Just remember that we’re lightly prodding him here. Who knows what’s going to happen if we bring up Maokai directly?”

“I know. I know.” Miky could be such a nag if he wanted to be. “But you better remember to get to somewhere safe if things do go south.”

“Do you even know how to get that sword back yet?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not really sweating it,” Martin answered honestly. “It happened once, who says it can’t happen again?”

Miky facepalmed. “Jankos is right, this is a terrible plan.”

Martin glanced over to the other end of the street. “Too late. He’s here.” He jerked his head towards Yamato, who walked towards them with a brisk pace. Their ex-coach waved at them, a small but genuine smile on his face. Even with the knowledge of what he saw the other night, Martin could hardly believe that this was the man who hurt so many people.

“Wunder, Miky,” he greeted. “I must admit, the two of you inviting me out was a surprise. I used to have to drag the both of you out of the house just so you could get some fresh air.”

“We were kids back then,” Miky replied, and a part of Martin was unsettled by how quickly his support could mask his fears. “What did we know about staying healthy?”

“Your diet consists entirely of Italian food. You still have no idea about health.” Martin turned to Yamato. “And we figured _you_ could use the fresh air.”

“That’s very considerate of you boys,” Yamato said with cheer. “Thank you! Though, I suspect you two aren’t just here to check up on how I am doing, are you?”

Martin tensed, and he imagined Miky doing much the same.

“Ah, I don’t blame you for being curious. It’s fine, really, especially with it being all over the news.” The Swede huffed. “If you ask me, they’re making too big a deal out of it. It’s not like anybody died, or even seriously hurt!”

For the briefest moment, the G2 players glanced at each other, and Martin imagined the same thought ran through Miky’s head too. _He doesn’t know_.

“But I’ve been itching to talk about it anyway.” Yamato pointed his thumb into the Park’s entrance. “Come on, the sun’s out and the sky’s clear. Perfect for a walk.”

With one last worried look at each other, they trailed after their former coach, hanging off of every word he said. There weren’t many trees around, and for that Martin was silently grateful.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what happened,” Yamato admitted. “The last thing I remember was freshening myself up in the toilet and then BAM—” he clapped his hand for emphasis. “—next thing I know I was on a stretcher in the main hall. Apparently, they found all of us there.”

“You didn’t notice anything weird before that?” Martin asked, glad that he was genuinely interested in this.

“Not really. They keep saying it was a gas leak but I don’t remember smelling anything weird before I passed out.”

“And after that? After you woke up, I mean.”

“Nothing too. Everything looked pretty okay, in fact, but I am not an expert in these things.”

This was going bad in a way that Martin didn’t expect it to. They were back in square one if Yamato had no info. He racked his brain for another question, but his ex-coach seemed content with continuing on.

“Whatever the case, they’ve postponed the split until further notice, so I’m not exactly busy for the next few weeks.”

“Isn’t that good?” Miky asked. “I mean, you get an extra week or two to chill. You _did_ just get out of the hospital.”

“Idle hands, Miky,” Yamato tsked. “Idle hands.”

Martin scratched the back of his head. “He has a point you know. We still don’t know what Ma— We still don’t know what kind of gas you guys inhaled. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Boys, I appreciate the concern but honestly I am fine. If anything, I’d prefer to get back to work as soon as possible. I’d very much rather be at the studio than sitting around all day in my apartment.”

To anybody else, those words would seem natural coming out of Yamato’s mouth, but Martin knew the Swede well enough for them to ring alarm bells. To call his ex-coach a workaholic would be hyperbolic, but there had been times when the pressure or stress got to him and he would bury himself in his work. That, and his lingering concerns from before made Martin change the subject.

The toplaner tilted his head to the side. “How have you been doing, by the way?”

Yamato chuckled. “What did I just say?”

“No, I mean in general, not just after what happened the other night.” He came to a stop and stared hard into his former coach’s eyes, hoping his seriousness and sincerity would break through. “Especially after you didn’t find a team. We know how much coaching is important—”

“Again,” Yamato interrupted, brisk and brief. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s okay. Does it suck? Sure! But there isn’t anything much that I can do about it now that the split is starting up other than move on.”

“Just because you can’t do anything more about it doesn’t mean that it isn’t fucked up,” Miky stepped up, and Martin was grateful that he caught onto the change of agenda so quickly. “You’re an amazing coach, Yamato. Those teams are inting by not signing you.”

For a split second, Martin could see the crack in Yamato’s calm and composed façade. “Well unfortunately those teams have made up their minds. Thank you for the support but there isn’t much left that you two can do.”

“We can lend you an ear,” the Support added. “We’re worried about you, and not just for last night.”

“The last thing you should do is waste time pitying me,” Yamato said, an edge in his voice that made the hair on the back of Martin’s neck stand upright. The Swede didn’t particularly yell, but he began raising his voice. “I failed my team and Vitality while I was their coach, and last night was a shitshow, simple as that.”

Martin didn’t like what he was hearing one bit. “It isn’t pity. And we’re serious, Yamato. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to us about it but at least talk to someone.”

“What else is there to say? That I failed so badly that no team trusts me anymore, or even my former team?” The ex-coach’s face twisted into a vision of despair and anger. “That I am at best mediocre and replaceable? That I’m not good enough to lead my players to a trophy? God, you two are living proof of that last part. You two only found your success after you left me.”

Those words punched Martin at his core. For a moment, silence fell over the three as that final statement sank in. No one else was around to cut the dead air, and the toplaner could feel the tension bearing down on his shoulders. Miky was pale, eyes wide with surprise and horror. “Yamato…”

Yamato’s face fell, beads of sweat dripping down as he realized what he had said. “W-Wait, Martin, Mihael, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean that. What I’m trying to… trying to…”

The air shifted, and a shiver crept up Martin’s spine. He was familiar with the feeling by now, the oppressive aura that threatened to swallow him whole. _Just like at the studio_.

Yamato clutched his chest, groaned in pain, and a crimson smoke began seeping out from between his fingers.

“Yamato!” Martin cried, reaching out. But before he could so much as touch the man, a spark of lightning shot out from the smoke and zapped him back, sending him reeling. “Shit!”

“Oh God.” Miky had his palm over his mouth, eyes wide. “Is he—”

“Miky, get back!” When the support didn’t listen, Martin grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him back to a safer distance. Or at least he hoped it was safer. Even then, Yamato stumbled away, off the pavement and onto the grass.

The crimson smoke began encroaching over Yamato’s figure, ignorant to the Swede’s moans of protest, shrouding his body until all that was left was his head. The coach looked up, revealing a set solid red eyes. And when he spoke, it overlapped with a booming timbre that could only be Maokai’s. “I-I don’t blame you two, you know. I’m glad that you two went far. Farther than I could ever take you. It’s just… I wish…”

“ _MAOKAI_.”

Yamato screamed as the smoke enveloped him, his howl cutting through the stillness of the park. The smoke expanded and took shape, adopting the silhouette of the treant champion. Slowly, Yamato’s voice began fading away until all that was left were Maokai’s screams and the crackling of lightning from within the smoke. And yet, somehow, Martin knew those screams weren’t born of anger or hate, but of despair, of pain, and his heart shattered into a million pieces.

He couldn’t stand by like this. Not when someone he looked up to, someone he considered a friend, was suffering like this. Wunder knew what he had to do.

“Miky, stand back.”

“You—” Miky stopped when he saw his toplaner’s change in demeanour, back straight and gaze fixed on their former coach. He hesitated for a moment before nodding and taking a step back.

Wunder closed his eyes and breathed once, twice, until he knew his heart was calm. Without knowing why, he raised his hand and reached out. In a flash of light, the sword materialized in his hands once more, its weight almost natural in his hands. He gave it a few experimental swings just to be sure it was real. _The G2-Riser_ his mind supplied.

There was a new weight at his waist too. At his left side was a container of sorts, not so much a box as it was a metal pocket attached to his belt. _A Capsule Holder_. He opened the holder, revealing four cylindrical slots, one of them already filled. _Kayle_.

There was only one thing missing.

A warmth spread over his chest, and soon after a ball of light came out of his chest. The light dispelled, and Wunder caught the golden key that fell out. _His key_. The head was peculiar, diamond in shape. On one side it had a black gem flecked with red that had the G2 logo carved into it, while the other side a different symbol was etched. It had a large square that was bisected diagonally and housed a smaller square, with the left-hand portion emboldened. The symbol for toplaners.

Maokai let out another yowl of pain. Time was running short. There was a key slot at the base of the sword’s hilt, and Wunder jammed his key into it.

“ _Access Granted: Wunder_ ,” the sword announced.

Inhale. Exhale. Wunder raised the blade above his head, pressed down on the trigger, and slashed the air in front of him.

“ _Riftrise._ ”

The air seemed to split in half, leaving behind a thin, silver line. That line spread out, taking on the shape of the G2 symbol that shimmered in the air. The symbol glowed for a moment, before separating into segments and latching onto him. Wunder could feel the power spread through his body, the suit enshrining him like a second skin.

When he felt the hood pulling up over his head and the mask materialize over his face, Wunder looked down at his hands and stretched his newly armoured fingers, just to make sure they were his.

“Wunder?” Mikyx asked, soft and with a twinge of fear.

“Yeah,” he replied, almost surprised to hear his own voice. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Another roar. With a wave of his titanic hand, Maokai dispelled the crimson smoke that swallowed him, sending out a gust air that blew even the trees back. The treant locked eyes with Wunder and snarled.

“You need my guidance,” Maokai stated – no, demanded. “You will bloom to be big and strong through my hand and mine alone.”

Wunder turned to Mikyx. “Get to somewhere safe. I’ll handle this.”

For a moment, it looked like Mikyx wanted to argue, but even he must have realized that he would have just gotten in the way. The support and ran off, taking cover behind a rock sculpture a good distance away.

Wunder turned back to Maokai, who had already begun summoning roots from the soil.

 _Here goes nothing_.

He drew his blade, raised it, and charged.

* * *

Wunder and Mikyx left an hour ago, and Rasmus had spent the entire time since then fidgeting. _\--- .... --..-- / .-. .. --. .... - --..-- / - .... . / .. -.. .. --- - .-.-.-_

It was impossible to focus. He ran around the house, his pacing almost driving a hole into the floor. It had gotten so bad that Luka ordered him to sit down on his chair in the gaming room and stay there. Not that he and Jankos were any better. They basically took turns checking their phones and staring off into the distance, hoping for a call from Miky. _.. / -.-. .- -. - / -... . .-.. .. . ...- . / - .... . -.-- / -... --- - .... / ..-. --- .-. --. --- - / .- -... --- ..- - / --. .- .-. . -. --..-- / .- ..-. - . .-. / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... . / - .-. --- ..- -... .-.. . / .. / .-- . -. - / - .... .-. --- ..- --. .... / ..-. --- .-. / .. - .-.-.-_

Rasmus sighed and aimlessly browsed his League client. Starting up a game, even if it were to take his mind off of things, was impossible. He was too consumed with worry to even consider it. What if Yamato really was evil? What if Maokai attacked them again? What if they were hurt? What if they’re dead? _-. --- / -.-. .... --- .. -.-. . --..-- / - .... . -. .-.-.-_

No. He refused to entertain that last thought, no matter what. _.... . -.-- --..-- / -.. ..- -- -... .- ... ... --..-- / .-.. --- --- -.- / .- - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... -.-. .-. . . -. .-.-.-_

Rasmus slumped in his seat. He wasn’t used to feeling so useless like this, so helpless. Even if it were one tiny thing, he wished there were some way he could help. He glanced at his screen in hope for a sign and found his eyes drifting to the blue essence icon on the top-left of his League client.

It was still wild to Rasmus that the crystals he and Wunder found were actually Blue Essence, or something close to it? Even more was the idea that there could be more of them, housing the powers of a video game character. Crystals like the one Wunder saw fell out of Maokai, and the one he himself found on the street—

…Oh.

Oh, frick!

Rasmus slapped his forehead in exasperation. He knew he was forgetting something!

He bolted out of his chair and made a beeline for the door, ignoring Luka and Jankos calling after him. He barely put on his coat as he exited the apartment, zooming down the stairs and through the lobby until finally he was outside. Immediately, he went to the side of the building and traced his hands over the tiled concrete until he found a particularly loose one. He jiggled the tile until it came off, and sighed with relief when he saw that the crystal was still there. Just as he picked it up, Luka and Jankos burst out of the front door, breathless and eyes wide.

“Miky just called,” Luka explained. “Yamato transformed into Maokai again. Wunder is fighting him right now.”

His heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way like in romance novels. He looked down at the crystal in his hand and found it pulsing with light once more. He could help. If Wunder could do what he did in the studio with just one crystal, imagine what he could do with two.

He looked up towards his teammates. “I’m going down there,” he said, and the two didn’t object, only followed him as they ran towards the park like their lives depended on it.

* * *

Watching the battle from afar, the man who bore the name of Forneus could only chuckle. He didn’t even have to lift a finger, Jakob Mebdi’s innate fears and insecurities were enough to reawaken Maokai. Those boys were fools to think they’re presence would calm the man down. Not that he was complaining mind you, he wouldn’t have gotten this show otherwise had they not rushed headfirst into danger without thinking.

Still, it looked like things would go the same as they did last night, and that will not do. Nobody liked a one-sided beatdown unless you were a sadist or Astaroth. For the sake of entertainment, he would tip the scales just a bit.

“You have the stuff ready, don’t you girl?” he asked the raven on his arm, whose only response was to tilt her head to the side. He chuckled and scratched her head with a finger. Dare he say, the bird almost looked cute without her master controlling it. Delicious too, but he knew better than to gobble up a useful tool.

In its beak was a crystal Raum had lent him the other night, and he figured that this was what the other demon had meant by testing something.

Well, if it served to spice things up then Forneus had no objections.

He raised his arm, and dark wings took to the sky.


	8. Game 2: The Radiant Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the big climax <3
> 
> I'll be on break for the next week and will be back the week after, hope you guys have fun with offseason until then XD.
> 
> also you
> 
> yes, you
> 
> after you finish reading this, try highlighting the text

Wunder was painfully aware that his movements were not his own.

He didn’t remember being able to parry away blows with a flick of a sword, he didn’t remember being able to make cuts so fast and clean that they must have looked like a blur to the human eye, and he certainly didn’t remember how to avoid a punch by flipping away. In fact, Wunder had never been in a real fight before, preferring to ignore anyone who deserved a punch to the face and avoid confrontation where possible.

But his body remembered, his mind remembered, and he let it take control. A sidestep to avoid encroaching roots. A slice to the ankles to bring the treant down. A cut across the back for good measure. He leapt, planting his sole on Maokai’s shoulder and kicking away just as the champion swung his left arm around like a club. The blow barely grazed his ankle, and what was once a retreat became a counterattack. He felt a surge of energy flow up his body, and the world became a blur. He landed blow after blow on Maokai, and while there was barely any indication that the treant was affected, he knew it was because his opponent was too slow to react to them, or rather, he was too fast.

 _Limit Time_ , his mind provided. A special ability of those who wielded the G2-Riser. A burst of speed and strength that could only be activated by dodging an opponent’s attack at the last second. He didn’t know why he knew this, but it was helpful nonetheless.

When the Limit Time ended he put up a safe distance between himself and Maokai. Compared to the last time they fought, the champion was wilder, angrier, and Wunder had to wonder if Yamato’s disposition had anything to do with this. Whatever the case, Maokai’s rage made him undisciplined and uncoordinated, easier to beat. And the sooner he dealt with this, the sooner he can save his friend.

“ _Skillrise: Kayle_.”

This should do the trick.

Wunder raised his blade aloft, now sheathed by the light of Kayle’s power. Normal strokes of his blade were unable to properly hack through Maokai’s body, but one empowered by the heat this shard granted him would have no issue. He drew his sword back, the tip aimed at the champion, and thrusted.

A raven squawked in the distance.

Wunder stumbled, caught off guard, his attack canceled. A wave of dread washed over him. He tilted his head to the sky and squinted. A raven flapped its wing overhead, making a circle around the two combatants. When it noticed Wunder staring at it, it squawked one more time and changed its course, diving towards Maokai. It was only when the raven was at eye level that Wunder saw the red shard it held at its beak. The same shard that it dropped on treant’s head, and subsequently absorbed.

“ _KARMA_.”

Maokai roared. His body pulse, crimson smoke seeping out of his back, rising up to form two sharp needles that protruded out of his shoulder blades.

 _Shit_.

Wunder resumed his assault, pulling back and thrusting his blade with all his might. A beam of light shot out, aimed directly at Maokai’s head, but it was too late. A glowing green screen materialized in front of the champion and shielded him from the shot. At the treant’s back, the smoke faded to reveal two silver mantles, and in between them a pair of dragons that circled each other.

The wounds on Maokai healed, and he set his gaze on Wunder.

The dragons on Maokai’s back spun, chasing the other’s tail, and a volley of spiritual energy burst forth, shooting towards Wunder like a comet. The toplaner dashed to the side, but the bolts of energy followed, pursuing him without rest. When escaped seemed futile, he skidded to a halt and stood his ground, blade raised in front of him. He managed to bat away one, two, even three bolts, but there were too many. The first one hit his shoulder, sending sparks flying from the armor, a second smashed his chest, and on-and-on it went. The barrage sent him reeling to the ground, grimacing in pain.

He tried to recover, to roll away and get back on his feet, but something latched onto his chest. He looked down, and saw a glowing green line attached onto his breastplate. He followed the line to its source and found Maokai holding onto the other end. All Wunder could do was curse before the line tugged and pulled him into the air.

The world spun. His sight was a blur, switching between the green of the grass to the blue of the sky, the wind whooshing pass his body. Wunder could only imagine what it would be like had he not been wearing the suit. Eventually the spinning stopped, and he stared up at the clear sky for a moment before crashing hard onto the ground.

He was not a stain on the dirt, but it sure as hell felt like he was. His back ached and bruised, but even then he could still feel his limbs twitching, his spine writhing, and he recovered just in time to see a giant hand coming down on him. He rolled away at the last moment, the ground rumbling from the blow. Limit Time activated again, but this time he used it to fully retreat, putting some distance between him and his opponent.

His chest heaved, his ribs stung, and his grip on the blade was not as tight as it should be. He needed time to regroup, re-strategize, but Maokai was a force unleashed. Just as Wunder took a step back, a pair of roots burst out of the soil beneath him, coiling his legs until they were locked tight. Before he could cut them, Maokai appeared in front of him. Wunder ducked under the treant’s wild swing and aimed his counter at the abdomen.

_CLANG_

A green shield appeared over Maokai’s body like a sheen, and Wunder’s blow recoiled. Shit, if he still had Kayle’s enchantment he might have been able to break through it at such close distance. Another root shot out and grabbed the wrist of his sword hand, tugging it to the side. Maokai managed to land two clubbing blows on the toplaner’s head, making his knees buckle before managing throw his free arm out to block. The treant’s continued to rain down blow after blow, and Wunder’s arm grew numb.

“I understand why you would resist,” Maokai sneered. “You fear your loss of self, your agency, but I assure you that you will become far better than you have been or ever will be otherwise under my care.”

“Is it for my sake, or yours?” Wunder challenged, grunting. “Yamato, I know you’re in there. I know this is you. Hang on, alright? I’m coming to get you!”

Maokai did not challenge this statement, only raised his hand to hammer down on the swordsman’s defenses. Wunder grit his teeth and braced himself.

A rock hit the side of Maokai’s head, and it moved purely out of surprise.

“Hey ugly!” Perkz yelled. “Pick on someone your own size!”

Ironic coming from the man who was barely taller than Caps.

Maokai turned his head to look at the newcomers, and Wunder took the chance. He drew back and slammed the top of his skull onto the Champion’s face. The blow rattled his brains, but it was enough to send Maokai reeling. He followed it up, tossing the blade to his free hand and delivering a series of slashes at the treant’s body, sending sparks flying and the champion reeling to the ground.

Wunder cut his way through his bonds and leapt away before Maokai could recover. He finally caught sight of Perkz waving at him, Jankos, Mikyx, and Caps trailing just behind. “Stay back!” Wunder cried, the last thing he needed was for his teammates to get caught in the crossfire. “What are you all even doing here!?”

“Wunder!” Caps ran past Perkz and threw something at the toplaner. “Catch!”

A speck of blue caught his eyes. _Is that…?_ He raised the G2-Riser, letting streams of light escape from the blade and cocoon the shard, encapsulating it. He caught the capsule in his hands and stared down at it. _This is the one Caps found_. He looked up to the boy in question, seeking confirmation in the smaller boy’s eyes, and the ADC nodded.

Wunder flicked the top of the capsule. “ _Garen_ ,” it announced, and his holder warmed, a pulsing, ringing sound emanating from it. He pulled out the Kayle capsule and held the two side-by-side in his palm. In addition to the ringing, Kayle glowed gently, and both action were mimicked by Garen, much like the night they found it. _They’re resonating with each other_.

Like a lightning bolt through his brain, Wunder knew what to do. \- .... . / - .. -- . / .. ... / -. --- .--

Maokai stirred, smoke rising from the areas the G2-Riser had struck. Wunder wasted no time. He flipped the sword over so that the flat of the blade was facing up, and by extension the G2 symbol was as well. He ran his head over the symbol and slid it up, revealing two slots embedded into the blade that looked almost like a battery compartment. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maokai rise and fire off another volley of spiritual projectiles. Wunder inserted the first capsule.

“ _Garen!_ ” \--. .- - .... . .-. / - .... . / .--. --- .-- . .-. / --- ..-. / - .-- --- / .-.. . --. . -. -.. ...

In a flash of golden light, a semi-transparent silhouette of Garen appeared in front of Wunder and held his blade out, using it as a shield to block Maokai’s shots. The spirit balls crashed onto the sword without making so much as a scratch. The treant roared and slammed the ground, causing it to crack and for a large bundle of roots to burst forth. Wunder inserted the second capsule.

“ _Kayle!_ ” .- -. -.. / -- .- -.- . / - .... . / .-.. .. --. .... - / --- ..-. / -.. . -- .- -.-. .. .- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -... .-.. .- -.. .

The angelic champion materialized and swung her shining blade, cutting and burning the charging roots. The two champions then hovered by Wunder’s side, staring down at Maokai. But Wunder wasn’t done yet. He slid the G2 symbol back over the capsule compartment, raised his blade, pointing it at the sky, and pressed down on the trigger.

“ _Summonrise: Garen! Kayle!_ ” .. / -... . ... . . -.-. .... / - .... . . --..-- / .-.. . --. . -. -.. / --- ..-. / - .... .. ... / .-- --- .-. .-.. -.. --..-- / --. .-. .- -. - / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .--. --- .-- . .-. / - --- / - .... .. ... / .-. . -... --- .-. -. / -... .-.. .- -.. .

The two silhouettes took to the sky. They collided in midair, their bodies transforming into pure light, forming the shape of an ornate greatsword almost as wide and tall as Wunder was, with a crossguard in the shape of wings. Its blade was pointed at the ground, and once it solidified, it fell down onto Wunder.

“Wait, what?” was all Wunder said before the blade came down on him.

“What!?” Jankos yelled.

But instead of being bisected, Wunder was enveloped. A slit had opened at the blade’s point and edge and it swallowed him up instead of cutting him open. The blade continued down until its tip touched the ground. Once it finished its descent, Wunder could feel pieces of the blade moving around, latching onto his body, forming a new layer of armor.

“ _Wunder: Radiant Edge!”_... - .- - . / - .... -.-- / -. .- -- . --..-- / .- .-. - .... ..- .-. / .--. . -. -.. .-. .- --. --- -. -.-.--

Everything clicked into place. Wunder felt a rush of power flowing through his veins, and a shockwave burst forth, knocking Maokai over and causing his teammates to stumble.

“ _The Sword of Light Cleaves a Path to Utopia_.”

He could feel them in his body, in his mind, in his soul. Garen’s courage and determination. Kayle’s burning desire for justice. Their essences had formed a powerful blade, and Wunder now wore that blade as armor. The steel portions of his old armor now had golden etchings running across them. A more knight-ly breastplate hugged his chest, covering the dark fabric with spotless steel that were etched with blue and gold markings. The fusion had also granted him a new pair of pauldrons and tassels, both bearing wing-like patterns carved into the steel. A blue scarf encircled his neckline and ran down to the small of his back, between a pair of tiny angel wings that grew out of his armor. Finally, his hood was newly adorned with a pair of golden wings at its side.

In his left hand was the G2-Riser, glinting in the newfound light of the armor, and in his right hand a golden hilt materialized. It had a blue gem embedded in its crossguard, and with a flick of his wrist a blade of light grew out of it. _Virtue_ , Kayle provided.

He raised Virtue and pointed it at Maokai, a silent challenge. The champion obliged, and with another roar the dragons at his back spun and spun and shot out a storm of spiritual energy, the biggest barrage he had seen yet. Wunder simply sauntered forward, dragging his swords across the grass. When the first wave came, he was ready. He batted away the first spirit-ball with Virtue, and in the same step cut down another two with the Riser. The spirit-balls hit the ground with a bang, kicking up dirt as they incited a small explosion, but Wunder paid it no heed. He spun, countering the storm with one his own, one made of steel and light until finally he deflected the last projectile back at Maokai, causing the treant to stumble back.

Once he was on top of Maokai he went to work, letting his blades fly, landing a flurry of slashes on the champion. The treant was driven back, moaning in pain, and raised a shield to defend himself. The Riser’s blow slid off the shield, deflected.

Virtue did not.

With one hit from the blade of light the shield cracked like a mirror. Wunder swung Virtue again, this time completely shattering it. Maokai stumbled back once more, and the toplaner pressed the advantage, stepping past the champion to get to his back. He raised his two blades together and brought them down in an ‘X’ formation, catching Karma’s mantles on his back and slicing them off.

The mantles fell to the ground, the dragons dissipating, sparks pouring out of the stumps on Maokai’s back, and the treant howled in pain. Wunder kicked his opponent away and sent him flying. Maokai landed a good distance away with a thud, face down and shaking. Even then, he still rose.

“Give it up,” Wunder demanded, and even he was surprised by the authority in his own voice. “You have no hope of beating me with the way you are right now.”

Maokai heaved, gasping for air despite his arboreal nature. “All I wanted was to be by your side as you succeeded,” the treant said, and for a quiver he could hear Yamato in there as well. “To help you all grow. If I can’t even do that, what am I… What am I even…?”

Yamato let out a roar, one that carried his pain and regrets, his anger and anguish. It would be his final one. All of a sudden, Maokai’s hands and feet latched themselves into the ground, and Maokai himself began growing, his original frame busting open so that a new tree could burst forth. It grew and grew until it dwarfed the treant’s original size. It grew to be wide enough to block a highway and tall enough that its branches and leaves covered the sky. Just under the treetop, Maokai’s face carved itself out of the bark, letting out a moan devoid of reason or thought.

Wunder stared up at this friend, clenching his swords tightly. “Yamato, this time for sure…”

[“I’ll save you.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vd-1FWppNTA&ab_channel=NattoChan%E3%83%8D%E3%83%AB)

He dispelled Virtue’s blade and jammed the top of the hilt onto the Riser’s key-pommel. It was a perfect fit, and a wave of light washed over the blade. It covered the sword entirely, forming a broadsword that was nearly as wide and tall as Wunder himself. He took the blade of light in both hands and swung it around with ease despite its size. He spun, swinging his blade around his body until he himself became a veritable spinning top.

Wunder charged. A new wave of roots burst out from the ground and made to intercept, but any who came close would be shredded to bits. He reached the base of the trunk and used his momentum to climb around it in circles. Running laps around the tree, he scaled and damaged it at the same time. Branches would pop out to bar his path, but his blade chopped them up all the same. Once he reached the tree’s crown, he stopped his spin and jumped off of it, leaping into the clear sky.

Maokai glared up at him. It began pooling its branches together to catch him in the air, but he would settle this before the tree even had the chance to attack. Wunder pushed Virtue up, and by extension his Access Key. The Riser whirred to life, and he could feel the power of two champions surge through his body once more. His wings fluttered and spread, growing from tiny and cherub-like to majestic and angelic. His sword reacted too, the blade of light growing once more. It expanded to be three times as tall as the swordsman and just as wide. He held the blade aloft over his head, focusing on it, drawing in light from his surroundings. He waited until the growth reached its climax, ready to burst.

“ _Shardbreak: Judgement End!”_

Wunder brought the sword down.

* * *

This was the end of a man’s dream.

A dream he found almost by chance. A dream he fought for with sweat and tears. It was only now, when his dearest disciple came down on him, sword of light shining bright and wings aflutter, that he understood. He had been going about his dream all wrong.

Had he failed? Perhaps. Was he angry? Definitely. But he pointed that anger in the wrong direction, his vision clouded by shame. So obsessed was he with his own failing that he turned a blind eye towards his disciples, his children. He wished them ill winds, for them to fail without his guidance. He desired success for his own sake, for spite, and not for his proteges. In his anger he had lost his principles and guiding light.

It was never about fame and glory, nor was it about prestige and reputation. He was there to guide, to teach, to lead, and when they no longer needed him he would step aside and nurture a new school of disciples, taking pride in those who had left his care and forged their own paths. Wounded ego had no place in the ideal he wished to reach. He had forgotten this in his haze of self loathing.

But now, as the blade of light struck his head and cut the hollow tree in half, Jakob Mebdi felt no anger, jealousy, or pain. Only pride for the one who had found his wings and soared to the sky.

* * *

Wunder cleaved Maokai in half with ease, from the crown to the ground.

The tree made no sound as it died. No final roar of anger. No curses of vengeance. It went down almost peacefully. For a moment, the two halves of the trees looked like they were about to fall to the side before being consumed in a fiery explosion. Wunder paid it no mind, only separating his blade back to two and turning his back to it, letting the shockwave flow over him.

Once the explosion receded, Wunder glanced behind him and caught sight of Yamato laying face-down on the ground, looking none too injured despite the battering Maokai took. At worst, he looked a little disheveled. He didn’t know how, a recurring theme so far these past few days, but he knew Yamato was going to turn out just fine. He tilted his upward and saw two blue flecks falling towards him. The shards. He caught them both in one hand and then examined them. Maokai and Karma. An unlikely combination, but one that proved formidable. They turned into capsules in his hands, and he put them away in his holder for safe keeping.

He then turned to the right, and saw his teammates gawking at him from the sidelines, mouth ajar. A small, vain part of Wunder relished in their stunned silence, but when they did not walk up to him he frowned. Was he scaring them? That wouldn’t do. He dispelled his helmet, breathing in the fresh air for the first time in what seemed like forever. Martin’s lips curled into a relieved smile, and he shot his teammates a thumb’s up.

Jankos was the first to move, cheering and whooping, practically crashing into Martin to swallow the toplaner up in a hug. It reminded the Dane of the relentless energy the jungler had after they won the summer split. “Holy shit, Wunder! When did you get so cool!?”

Martin took offence to the implication that he _wasn’t_ cool before and made to state this when Luka tackled his side, his captain’s absolute menace of a hand reaching up to rub his neck. “Fuck that. Where did you learn how to fight like that? You better teach me when we get back home.”

Good question. Again, zero clue. Thankfully, he was saved by Miky, who came up to him and gave Martin a light punch on the shoulder. This proved to be a bad idea when Martin barely felt a thing through his armor and Miky retracted his hand, muttering a small ‘ow’. “You almost had me worried there.”

Someone else latched onto him, their arms locking around his waist. Martin looked down to find Rasmus curled up on him, eyes closed and head on the toplaner’s chest. Martin’s heart melted at the sight, and a small part of him would be content to stay like this forever if it weren’t for his entire body aching. “Uh, guys. I appreciate it and all, but I don’t think my ribs can take much more of this.”

“Ah, shit. Sorry!” They released him. Now that the fight was over and the adrenaline flushed out of his system, everything hurt like a _biiiiitch._ He looked down at his arms and armor, as _fucking awesome_ it made him look and how powerful it made him, it wouldn’t do for him to walk around like this. Like a switch in his brain, he willed the armor to disappear. The Radiant Edge armor detached first, disappearing into motes of light, and Martin could feel Garen and Kayle leaving his body. The G2 suit disappeared next, and the Dane almost deflated now that he was back in his street clothes. God, he couldn’t wait to go home and take a long, hot shower. But first, he had something important to take care of. He turned his gaze back to Yamato, and the rest of his team followed suit.

“Is he…” Miky trailed off, a twinge of fear in his voice.

“He’s fine,” Martin clarified. “Physically at least. Come on, help me get him—”

A shiver ran down his spine, and there was a beckoning at the back of his mind. _It’s that feeling again, same as from the rooftop_. Except this time the empty feeling was gone – no, not gone, but filled out – and he knew exactly where to look. He tilted his head to the sky and saw a blue figure floating above them, just out of reach. The sun bore down on his eyes, and even if he squinted he couldn’t make anything out. Whatever it was, it was slender and appeared inorganic judging by the shine of its skin. Its cloak billowed in the air despite there being no wind.

“Wunder?” Rasmus asked, tilting his head in the same direction as his toplaner. “What are you looking at?”

 _They can’t see it._ Just as Martin was about to confirm this, a light began shining from the figure’s chest. He noticed his friends looking up to, squinting and shielding themselves from the light, and he wondered if they could actually see the figure at all. A gentle ring in the air, and suddenly Martin’s world went white.

The light only flashed for a few seconds, and when it died down everything looked normal, which was _not_ normal. The upturned earth, the burning craters, the gashes on the ground where he dragged his blade around, all gone. It was like no fight had ever taken place here, and Martin was willing to bet that nobody saw the ten-story tall tree, or at least nobody _remembered_ seeing a ten-story tall tree.

Luka’s gaze swept over the clean and tidy park, mouth ajar. “Is this what happened at the studio?”

Nobody replied even if the answer seemed certain. Jankos fidgeted, playing with his sleeves. “Should–should we go?”

“Not yet,” Martin said. “We need to get him to a safe place. And there’s something I want to talk to him about first. Would you guys mind waiting for a few minutes?”

“Are you sure about this?” Luka asked him.

“I am.”

His captain’s gaze swept over the rest of the team, searching for even a hint of dispute. When he found none, he nodded over to Martin. “Do you need help moving him?”

Martin pressed a finger to his side and winced. “Yeah, I think I need some help.”

They ended up moving him to a park bench, laying him out on his back with his head cushioned by a pillow made of Martin’s folded jacket. Martin himself sat on the other end, his bare arms tingled and shivered a bit at the cold, but he grit his teeth and bore with it. He needed to see this through to the end. The rest of G2 hid quite a bit away, just far enough that they still had a line of sight of the two but hidden enough between the trees that Yamato shouldn’t be able to spot them. All for the best; this was something he should settle on his own, especially after that battle. _That is if I can find the words_.

Yamato stirred, groaning, eyes fluttering open. _No turning back now_. The former coach sat up, rubbing his head. “Ugh, my head. What…”

“You’re up,” Martin stated, more to announce himself than anything.

“Wunder?” Yamato rubbed his eyes. “Is that you? What happened? Why does my head hurt?”

“You, uh, you tripped and fell,” Martin answered, patting himself on the back for such a smooth lie. “Slipped on some frozen dirt. Miky’s trying to find an ice pack for you right now.”

“Just my luck,” the Swede mumbled, scooching around so that he could rest on his back. “Sorry about the trouble. I know you weren’t expecting this when you invited me out for a walk.”

“It’s fine.” In truth, some of it went just about as expected. “Do you… Do you remember what happened before you passed out?”

“Before I…” Yamato trailed off and then paused, the color draining from his face. He buried his head in his hands in shame, unable to meet Martin’s eyes. “Oh my God. Wunder, I am so, so sorry for what I said.”

 _He doesn’t remember being Maokai_. Probably for the best, especially since Martin was here for something else. “Dude, you don’t have to—”

“No,” Yamato spoke in a tone that inspired no argument or backtalk. “What I said was unprofessional and out of line. You two shouldn’t have had to hear that. I was taking out my anger on you two when you didn’t deserve it, when I should have taken it out on myself.”

“Hey man, it’s cool,” Martin tried to assuage his former coach. “Stuff like this just gets to you sometimes. I get it.”

“You shouldn’t have to is what I’m saying. It’s unfair to ask you two to feel bad about your success just because I’ve fallen on hard times.”

Martin fiddled with his thumbs. He had never been good with this; fixing scars and bruises with words alone. But he had no choice now. It had to be him. “This… This has been bothering you more than you let on, hasn’t it?”

For a moment, it looked like Yamato was about to deny it again, but either because he was caught red handed or that he was just tired of it all he just sighed and slumped on the bench. “It’s one thing if it’s just Vitality dropping me. I get it, alright? Plans or directions change and these things just happen. It’s another thing when no team wants to pick me up. Not even ERLs. It just makes a man wonder, you know?”

“They’re trolling Yamato. Any team would be lucky to have you.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t know what happened in Vitality this year.” Yamato let out a crazed laugh, half angry and half sad. “Fuck, _I_ don’t know what happened in Vitality this year. We were all set up for success after coming back from Worlds and then—” he shrugged “—I don’t know. We just fell apart. I know my players could deliver more than what they showed this year, and it was on me to lead them there. I failed, obviously, so I guess they’re not entirely wrong by not believing in me.”

Martin’s chest tightened as he heard those words. A part of him wanted to dispute it, to reassure Yamato again and again that he was a good coach because that was what the Dane genuinely believed. But he was also practical enough to know that it wouldn’t work. Yamato never responded well to empty platitudes and praises. You had to address the issues head on with him instead of pretending they didn’t exist.

“Do you remember when you put me on GP for four games in a row against Vizi’s Shen?”

“The UoL gauntlet series, right?” Despite everything, a small smile graced Yamato’s face. “We went to Worlds off of that.”

“Yeah, and you kept trusting me with GP despite the fact that I got my ass kicked in that matchup a couple of times during the series.”

“You pulled through in the end.”

“I did. So why can’t you?”

Yamato fell silent, and Martin pressed on. “You had a rough year, sure, and it may have cost you this year, but that doesn’t mean you can’t bounce back. You’re a great coach, even if you do think that you aren’t a good one right now, and nothing says that you can’t become an amazing one next year – or next split even.”

“And for what it’s worth, I believe in you. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you. I trust you, Yamato, and I trust that you can bounce back from this. It’s the least I can do to pay you back. So if you can’t believe in yourself, then believe in me who believes in you.”

“Martin, that’s…” he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a shuddering breath. Martin could almost see his words breaking through Yamato’s walls of self-loathing. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear something like that for a while now. I don’t know if I deserve those words just yet, but I appreciate them nonetheless.”

Martin let those words sank in, a warm feeling in his chest as he listened to the stillness of the park. Slowly, the ambient wildlife returned after being driven away by their fight, and a cool breeze whistled through the trees.

“I just want to make one thing clear,” Yamato started. “Even if a part of me is jealous, I am so, _so_ proud of how far you and Mihael have gone. I always knew you two would be able to go far, and I hope I can make you proud too.”

“You will,” Martin replied, firm in his words. “I’m sure of it. Are you going to be okay?”

“Not right now, but I think I will, eventually.”

“Well if you ever need someone to talk to, my DMs are always open.”

“You should be telling Caps that.”

Martin choked on thin air.

Yamato chuckled. “But seriously though, thank you. I might just take you up on that.” The Swede pulled out his phone and his eyes bulged when he saw the time. “Shit, I’m late to a doctor’s appointment. Can you give my apology to Miky for me? Both for what I said and for leaving without saying goodbye.”

“Of course. But you sure you don’t need me to accompany you?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” the Swede answered, rubbing the back of his head. “My head doesn’t even hurt anymore. Not even a bump. Are you sure I fell on my head?”

Martin let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

If Yamato thought this to be weird, he did not show it. The former coach stood up, stretched, and brushed himself off. “Well I better get going. Thanks for the walk and talk. Feeling _much_ better than when I woke up today. See you around?”

“Yeah, see you around.” He gave Yamato a smile and wave as the older man walked away, a satisfied and peaceful feeling in his chest. Once the former coach was out of sight, his teammates came out of the woodworks, surrounding him before he had so much as a chance to move.

“How is he?” Miky asked.

“He’s fine, I think. Or at least he will be. Doesn’t remember being Maokai so I hope that doesn’t bother him.”

Jankos piped up from behind the bench. “You sure he isn’t going to transform again?”

Martin summoned the holder and pulled out the Maokai’s capsule, presenting it to his friends. “Not without this he won’t.”

Everyone crowded around the capsule, examining it from every angle as if it would reveal some new secret. “So, you can just do this now?” Luka asked, pointing at the holder. “Same with the sword?”

“Same with the sword.” Martin nodded. He put the capsule back in the holder and unsummoned it. “Now, I know you guys have a lot of questions, and believe me when I say that I have zero answers to any of them. But if you don’t mind I’d really like to go home and go back to slee— whoa!”

His knees buckled, and he would have fallen face first to the ground had it not been for Rasmus, who blocked his fall and held him up by the chest. The smaller Dane looked up at Martin and gave him a smile. “I got you.”

The hands on his arms and sides tightened and pulled him up. “What he means is that _we_ got you,” Miky said, and on Martin’s other side Jankos nodded along eagerly. Ah, that made much more sense; Rasmus would have been crushed if he had tried to hold Martin up.

“I guess I’m more drained than I thought I was,” Martin explained, head bowed in shame. “Sorry to ask you guys like this, but do you mind carrying me back to the house?”

“Dude, after what you did it’s the least we could do,” Jankos looked down at his ADC and smirked. “We can take care of this, Rasmus. Let us big boys handle it.”

“Are you calling me short again?” Rasmus asked, pouting.

“Rasmus, Rasmus,” Luka chided, ruffling the shorter boy’s hair. “You can’t blame him for stating the truth.”

“You’re not much better either,” Miky pointed out. .. / -.- -. . .-- / -.-- --- ..- / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / -.. --- / .. -

Martin had to chuckle at this. _All’s well that end’s well, I suppose_. He turned his head to the side to hide his smile and caught sight of something between the trees. It was that blue figure again. It floated just above the ground and stared at Martin with solid blue eyes and an expressionless, statuesque face. Despite that, the Dane felt no hostility radiating from it, nothing that would make him uneasy. If anything, the toplaner felt the smile on his lips growing fixed. The figure nodded at him, and Martin tried to call out a name. A name from somewhere deep within his heart. A name that was just at the tip of his tongue… .. / -.-. .- -. - / --. ..- .- .-. .- -. - . . / - .... .- - / .. / -.-. .- -. / .... . .-.. .--. / -.-- --- ..- / --- ..- - / -- ..- -.-. .... / ..-. .- .-. - .... . .-. / - .... .- -. / - .... .. ...

“Wunder?” Rasmus called out. .--- ..- ... - / -.- -. --- .-- / - .... .- - / .. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / -... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .. -.. . --..-- / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ...

“Huh,” Martin glanced down at his ADC. “Hold on a second, I just need to—” But when he looked up, the figure was gone, and the name on his lips faded away, leaving an empty feeling in Martin’s chest.

He turned back to his teammates, who looked at him with worry. “It’s nothing,” he said. “I was just imagining things.”

Luka smirked. “Well if you’re done imagining things, let’s get a move on!”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Hidden away deep within the park’s dense foliage, Forneus held up a needle-like stone sculpture in the air. It was around the size of his hand and sucked in red motes of light that were invisible to the naked eye. This was the Rune Factor Jakob Mebdi had excreted and released as Maokai, the purest essence of a different world, containing all of its rules and laws.

Despite losing two shards, Forneus did not mind this outcome. He completed his harvest all the same, and he fed well enough on Mebdi’s desires. There was also the Summoner who, for all the trouble he would no doubt give them in the future, interested him to no end. Given enough time and seasoning, Wunder could make the tastiest and most wonderful dish Forneus had ever tasted.

His Rune Stone continued to suck in the red motes in the air until none were left, and even then it only filled so much as a pinky nail at the bottom of the needle. Ah, no matter. There were still plenty of shards out there for him to harvest. The ground beneath Forneus’ feet began to ripple, and he sank into it as if it was water. He still had work to do; there were new seeds he needed to sow, and friends he needed to welcome.

* * *

With Wunder fully operational, the Keeper had one last thing to tick off of its agenda.

In a burst of light, the Keeper teleported into a dark and lifeless sanctum, though it would not stay that way for long. It floated through the room. On its left was a wall with ten circular holes that formed one giant circle. All of the holes were empty save for the topmost that held the G2 Riser. On its left was a wide glass display littered with dozens of cylindrical holes, of which only four were filled. The Keeper stopped and placed another capsule into the wall. It had found this one purely by chance, but considering that it was Akali, perhaps it was fate?

It continued on to the head of the room, where a huge screen was embedded into the wall. The black screen did not show the Keeper’s reflection, it did not have that type of right in this world. Instead, it placed a porcelain hand on the console below the screen, and it lit up with a teal light. The screen came to life, displaying a singular teal dot that acted as an eye. .- .-- .- -.- . -.

“Has it begun?” the sanctum itself asked. .. -. -.. . . -.. --..-- / .. - / .. ... / - .. -- . / - --- / .--. .- -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / -.. . -... - ...

The Keeper said nothing, but it appeared that the sanctum understood. The room lit up, and the computer began its work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** R.M.L Codex **
> 
> MAOKAI  
>  _The Hollow Tree_
> 
> Once a peaceful nature spirit who dwelled in a land now known as the Shadow Isles, Maokai was twisted into an abomination that straddled the line between life and death when the king of the Isles enacted a ritual to unite himself with his late wife. The ritual devastated the sacred forest Maokai called home, turning it into a lifeless husk. Ever since then, fueled by his pain and grief, Maokai sought for a way to restore his homeland, all the while harboring hate for mortals for their arrogance.
> 
> As a shard, it latched onto Jakob Mebdi’s desire to nurture and guide those under his care, as well as his insecurities in failing to do so. Was briefly modified by a shard of Karma, a living embodiment of Ionia’s will, granting him powers he did not have access to when he was alive.
> 
> Had Wunder not neutralized Maokai, his nature as a tree of magic, overlapping concepts, and the proximity of his manifestation to Scandinavia would have brought him into contact with the World Tree Yggdrasil of Norse myth.


	9. Interlude: Mikyx's Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Apologies for the short hiatus, but I'm finally back and kicking off a new arc! I'll be posting a full-length chapter this weekend and will then take a week break from this fic for the Dreamserver Secret Santa!
> 
> Special thanks to Floraly_fic and Nirukee for help with these two chapters as I was having a lot of problems with them.

Mikyx's Notes

I’m writing all of this down because I don’t trust anyone else on the team to actually take notes. I love them and all, but I’m pretty sure the last time any of them wrote anything down in a notebook was from before they left school. Hell, it’s pretty much the same for me, but somebody has to do it.  
  
We ran some tests on the G2 Riser this morning. It’s still kinda creepy to me that Wunder just knows its name and how it works, but I didn’t want to say that to his face. Poor guy is shaken up about all of this as it is.  
  
First we tried to see if anyone else on the team can use the Riser. Naturally, Luka volunteered, to some interesting results.  
  
  
  
---  
  
* * *

“This goes in here, right?” the Croatian asked, eyeing the keyhole on the pommel. He jammed the key into it, and Mihael braced himself for the outburst of power he had become so accustomed to in such a short period of time.

“ _Access Denied._ ”

“Huh?” Luka looked down at the Riser, the G2 symbol’s eye blinking rapidly.

“ _Unauthorized Access Attempt Detected. Beginning Lockdown Procedures._ ”

“Lockdown proce—” Luka yelped as he lurched forward, still holding onto the sword as it crashed into the ground with a mighty thud.

“Luka!” Mihael yelled. He attempted to move to Luka’s side, but Martin held him back by the shoulder.

“Wait,” the Dane hissed. “It’s too dangerous for you, let me handle this.”

The support paid him no heed. “Luka, what’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know!” Luka exclaimed, the veins in his neck popping as he tried to lift the sword again. “It just got heavy all of a sudden.”

“ _Continued Unauthorized Access Attempt Detected. Administering Defensive Discharge._ ”

Luka blinked. “Defensive discharge?”

When the midlaner still didn’t let go of the Riser, red sparks flew out of the G2 symbol, zapping the Croatian. Luka yowled in pain and finally let go of the hilt, the crash hard enough for Martin to feel the floor shaking under his feet.

Luka approached the rest of his team. “I-uh…” he rubbed the spot where the sparks had struck. “I don’t think it likes me all that much.”

“Are you okay?” Miky took Luka’s hand in his own, checking it over with a worried and meticulous gaze. “Does it hurt?

“Not really? It was just a little shock I think.”

“We should probably get some burn salve on it, just in case.”

“I… thank you, Miky.”

* * *

Some kind of security system went off. So far it looks like only Wunder can use it. Which, again, huge wtf. I’m not suspicious of him or anything, but something weird is happening to the guy. First, the Kayle shard appeared in his hands after the meteor shower, which, if you buy Rasmus’ theory, was actually hundreds of those shards falling all over Berlin. Then a sword that only he can use shows up and lets him transform into some kind of superhero. Finally, he just knows stuff about the Riser, even how to fight! I just hope I still have my friend once all of this blows over.  
  
Next we tested the crystals, or ‘shards’ as Wunder calls them. Bad idea. There’re scorch marks from where we tested Kayle and holes in the wall where we tested Maokai. We’ll need to find someplace safe and hidden to conduct our testing, or else we’re going to tear our building apart.  
  
Then we tested the ‘Summonrise’ thing. Get this, it’s not just armor. Wunder actually grew wings! You should’ve seen the look on his face when Rasmus touched them. It was priceless!  
  
_L+M_  
  
---  
  
* * *

“Wait a minute,” Perkz squinted. “Are those things real?” 

“I think so?” Wunder replied, giving his wings an experimental flap. Sure enough, they moved at his command, even if he didn’t fully know how to move them. It was kind of like riding a bike, except here it was moving a new set of limbs. “I don’t think I can actually fly with these things though.”

Caps oohed and aahed, encircling Wunder to take a closer look. He could feel Caps’ gaze on his back, could just imagine the smaller boy’s eyes go wide as he examined the toplaner’s wings, could just imagine him reaching up and placing his hands on those pure, white—

“Caps!” Wunder squeaked, face flush, wings twitching.

Caps flinched back as if stung. “I-I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“N-No,” Wunder heaved, breath heavy as he tried to slow down his racing heart. His hands reached up his back to graze his wings, and with barely a touch his entire body shivered. _Sweet Demacia, these things are sensitive._

* * *

That guy is super whipped. I honestly don’t get why he doesn’t just confess his feelings to Rasmus already. It’s clear as day they’re both into each other. Plus, they’re super soft. ~~They’d definitely have a better chance of working out than me and Luka.~~  
  
Well, I think I know of half of the reason why, but he’s so cagey about Chres that I can’t know for sure.  
  
Anyway, we moved on and tried to summonrise Garen and Maokai together, and then Karma and Kayle. Neither of them worked. All it said was ‘Summonrise Error’ and then it deactivated Wunder’s transformation. Good to know in advance just in case he tries it in a real fight.  
  
Actually, Rasmus had an interesting theory about why it only worked with Garen and Kayle.  
  
  
  
---  
  
* * *

“It actually makes sense, no? They’re both from Demacia.”

The team turned to Caps and gave him a weird look. The ADC just shrugged. “You know, like in the lore.”

“You actually read the lore?” Jankos asked incredulously.

“Y-Yeah? I don’t know, I just thought it would help. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.”

Admittedly, the idea that these champions were real real and weren’t just video game characters wasn’t entirely insane at the moment, so the extra intel would definitely help. “So, does it all fit?” Wunder asked.

“I mean, sort of? What Maokai said about growing a new grove and planting new trees seemed pretty in-line with the lore I read. Maybe there was a little difference here and there, but it mostly fits. But it didn’t say anything about turning people into plants and nurturing them for ‘a better future’ like he said.”

“You think that was Yamato speaking?”

“Yeah, I mean if what you said is true then I guess it was… I don’t know, feeding off of Yamato’s desires?”

* * *

The last thing I want to think about is what happened to Jakob, but the idea didn’t sound too farfetched (a blessing these days). It’s not too far from my own theory either.  
  
I’m more worried about the lore thing. Is the world of League of Legends real? What does it mean for us? For the game? Were we involved in something big from the start?  
  
Whatever answers we find, we won’t get them for Riot. The team agreed to not approach them about this just yet, not until we know more about what they now. The risk simply outweighs the reward. If they had a hand in this, or maybe even completely behind it, we’d be playing our hand too early and get played into their hands. If they didn’t know anything, we’d just make ourselves look suspicious.  
  
Same goes for Carlos. Well, almost. Luka mentioned he would try and pick the boss’ brain for a bit, see if he knew anything without raising suspicion. It’s a cautious and slow move, but we don’t know who else out there we can trust.  
  
~~God, we are so screwed, aren’t we?~~  
  
Anyway, we were about to end the meeting when Jankos… brought up an interesting point.  
  
  
  
---  
  
* * *

“We’re professional gamers. What qualifications do we have that makes us fit to handle these things?” Jankos argued, waving his arms around to make a point, but Luka wasn’t about to back down.

“We handled the Maokai situation pretty well.”

“ _Wunder_ handled the Maokai situation well, and he’s almost as clueless as we are! Ah, no offence.”

“None… taken?”

“What I’m trying to say is that we are so in over our heads that it’s ridiculous. There are people out there who are way more qualified to figure out all of this is. Look, Yamato’s safe, everyone in the studio is safe, Miky is safe. There’s no reason for us to put ourselves in danger investigating this.”

Luka scoffed. “So what, are you saying we should just stand by if something like Maokai happens again?”

“I’m not! Like obviously since we’re the only ones who have any clue about what these things are we should do our best to take care of it, but if there is someone out there who is can do this and can do it better than we can, then why not just let them take over? Do you really think we’re ready for this kind of responsibility?”

* * *

To be fair, I can kinda see his point, but at the same time it feels like it’s not that easy?  
  
I don’t really believe in fate or destiny or whatever, but it feels like everything that’s happened to us happened to us specifically for a reason. Maybe not Yamato becoming Maokai specifically, but Wunder and Rasmus finding the shards, The sword having a G2 symbol and it appearing to Wunder, the appearance of the league champions in general, there’s too many overlapping pieces for me to just call it a coincidence.  
  
Luka agreed with me on this at least. He pushed Jankos back on it and things got a little heated. Nothing crazy, just a few raised voices, but things were a little tense once everyone settled down. In the end everyone else disagreed with bringing this up to the authorities, at least for now, and Jankos wasn’t about to do anything if we didn’t agree to it.  
  
It wasn’t all tense at the end though. Wunder and I got into in an argument about the way the Riser announces things, then I cracked a joke about being a toy that spouted out voice lines, especially the attack names. One thing led to another and we made a bet. If he gets super whipped by Rasmus and is like super easily convinced by that little devil (without Rasmus knowing, of course), he loses and he has to say a line before he transforms (content negotiable). If I eat any Italian food, I lose, and I have to model for that G2 body pillow collection Carlos keeps bothering us about.  
  
Jokes on him, though. He’s basically already lost. He was about to take a nap when Rasmus blasted him with the puppy-dog eyes. Apparently Wunder promised Rasmus he’d accompany him to go shoe shopping to replace his old raggedy pair. I let it slide, though. Wunder made that promise before the bet, and it’s not like I need the help to win. I guarantee you that he’s going to tell me he lost the second he  
  
  
  
---  
  
* * *

Mihael stopped, looked over his writing again, and blanched. It read more like a teenage girl’s diary than proper research notes for informational purposes. He even talked to it for Christ’s sake. This won’t do, especially if any one of his teammates got their hands on this. The stuff he wrote about Luka alone was…

Mihael winced. He grabbed the top of the paper, ready to rip the pages off and start anew, when he heard a knock at his door. Jankos peeked his head into the room before Mihael could so much as utter a ‘come in’. Through the open doorway, the draft carried an aroma that smelled of—

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Miky…” Jankos said in that same obnoxious voice whenever he was about to say something incredibly perverse. “It’s my cheat day so I ordered some pizza. It’s your favorite, quattro formaggi.”

It took everything that Miky had to not throw his pen at Jankos’ head.

“If you want some, it’s on the dinner table. Enjoy~” And with that, Jankos left the room, great tester of virtues that he was.

Mihael pressed his hand over his mouth to suppress a scream, scribbled one final note in his notebook, and then left to begin devouring gloriously cheesy, savory pizza.

* * *

Fucking Jankos   
  
---


	10. Game 3: Welcome to the Nexus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a big thank you to Nirukee and Floraly_fic for helping me out with these two chapters!

Forneus tapped his fingers along the railing, composing a jaunty tune as his eyes scanned the people below. It was the height of noon, and the office crowd had just came out of the office to have lunch, packing the streets. At this height they looked almost like ants, black dots that ran around and went about their lives unaware of the looming danger above them. Not that he minded that; it was much easier to coerce humans into his deals when they had no prior knowledge of him. Besides, it wasn’t him they should be worried about today. _She should be here any minute now._

He heard the door to the rooftop behind him bang open, and Forneus was ready to swallow whoever interrupted his focus whole when he felt a familiar aura wash over him. It was a slimy, inky sensation filled with dread and sorrow and all other primal human fears. Forneus licked his lips; it wasn’t his favorite food, but he had developed a taste for it over the years.

“There you are,” a young-ish, brash voice spoke, the irritation clear in his tone. “I’ve been running around this damned city looking for you for hours by now. Why the hell didn’t you pick up my calls?”

“I was busy,” Forneus replied, not deigning to turn around. Not that he disliked the other boy, mind you, but riling him up was too much fun. “And before you ask, no, I was doing my job, thank you very much.”

Kimaris scoffed. “That’s the least you could do.” The other demon joined Forneus in leaning on the railing and looking down on the crowd below. “So, you found another host already?”

“That I have. If I’m correct, she should be here any minute now.” Forneus clapped, and finally turned to his compatriot. “But where are my manners? Let’s catch up while we wait for her to arrive. Tell me, Kimaris, how was Beijing?”

Said demon finally turned to him. Kimaris’ human guise was of average height and weight, had a gaunt face and sunken eyes, with a bird’s nest of a hair that was a dark violet, though at a glance it appeared black. He wore an aviator jacket over a simple black shirt with a skull design. “Why even bother calling me that? It’s just the two of us here, and it’s not like we need to use these Names when we’re just talking like this.”

“It’s in the spirit, is it not? When in Rome and all.”

“You’re even picking up their sayings,” Kimaris said with a disgusted snort. “I’m me and you’re you, these names are just a second set of skin we need to put on if we want to exist here.”

Forneus rolled his eyes and wondered just how much did Kimaris choose to ignore about himself since they awakened on this earth. “Fine, if it bothers you that much. How was Beijing, _Nocturne_?”

“Thank you, _Tahm Kench_ ,” the demon of nightmares almost spat out. “It disgusted me, in case you were wondering. The air was shit and it was way too crowded, but I can’t complain about the people, or the food, or _the food_.”

“Not all that different here, I’m afraid.”

“Figures.” He looked down at the humans below them again, this time with disdain. “Did you know that I ran into Evelynn on the Silk Road? I told her to come here as soon as possible but she made a detour to India instead, said something about sightseeing.”

“So? Not everyone hates this world like you do. Some of us find it charming.”

“Need I remind you about our mission?”

“All the more reason to take in the sights before we complete it.” Tahm Kench glanced down again and saw a sheet of mist began seeping through the streets. “Speaking about our mission, our new Another Champion is here.”

No one noticed it at first, the mist thin enough to appear invisible to the naked eye, but as it slowly thickened more and more people took note. The crowd seemed to stop it incessant buzzing and a wave of confused murmurs swept over it. This murmuring only grew as the mist became denser and denser, forming a blanket of white over the street. Visibility neared zero now, and what was once hushed whispers became panicked shouts. The people tried to traverse the mist, hands held out in front of them, looking for shelter, looking for loved ones. And then—

A flash of light, a thud, and the first body fell to the floor. 

A beat of silence, and then a scream, spreading out from one person to the next. They were silenced as quickly as they came, accompanied by a flash of light and another body falling to the ground. That green light was the only thing that shone in the mist, and it went down the street with alarming speed, the mist following it.

Nocturne grunted as he came to an understanding. “Senna?”

Tahm Kench hummed in conformation. “The hosts’ wife is terminally ill with a rare disease, and they can’t afford the operation to cure it. She just got word from the doctors that her wife only has a few months left to live.”

“And so she gathers souls to prolong her wife’s lifespan?” Nocturne asked, and he swore he could hear a hint of mirth leave the boy’s lips. They could feel the Rune Factor within Senna multiplying, her emotions exciting and amplifying it. This would be a good harvest indeed, and the river king himself would get a good meal out of this whole ordeal.

“Do you think he’ll come?” The demon of nightmares asked. “The summoner, I mean.”

“Oh, my shadowy friend.” Tahm Kench grinned. “I very much hope so.”

“Well that’s good,” Nocturne said, holding up his head in one hand and jamming a thumb to the side with another. “Because he’s already here.”

“Wait, what?”

* * *

“I still say we should have gone with the yellow one.”

“Rasmus, the only thing in your closet are plain tees and G2 merch, there’s nothing in there that won’t clash with yellow,” Martin pointed out as they exited the shoe store and stepped onto the crowded city street. “That’s why you brought me along, isn’t it? To make sure you don’t make any disastrous fashion choices?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rasmus pouted, but Martin knew that irritation would pass soon. The ADC didn’t care what for what he wore, and only wanted the yellow pair because it was shiny. He chuckled and ruffled the smaller Dane’s hair.

“It’s getting late, do you want to eat dinner first before we head back?” Martin asked. “I know a good burger place nearby.”

Rasmus looked up at him. “You don’t want to head back either, do you?”

Martin cringed. “That obvious?”

“Not really, but I kind of feel the same.” Rasmus scratched the back of his head. “Things between Jankos and Luka are kinda…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence for Martin to catch his meaning. They were reluctant to say that the jungler and the midlaner were fighting, but there was this awkward, tense, passive-aggressive silence that filled the apartment whenever the two locked horns. It wasn’t an altogether uncommon sight, if anything it mostly happened after a rough day of scrims or a tough loss, and Martin couldn’t even claim that he had never contributed to it. Things usually went back to normal the following day, after heads had cooled and they talked things out. The two were mature enough to work through their disagreements.

But this was no normal disagreement, and the subject matter itself was a few tiers above conflicting calls or differing views on how to play the game.

“Do you agree with what Jankos said?” Martin asked.

“Kind of, but no?” Rasmus replied. “I mean I understand what he’s worried about, but I don’t think we should hand this over to the police at all. They’d definitely try and take the crystals and the sword away from us.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want that to happen. If the police takes it all away, we won’t be able to find out what’s happening with the shards and what’s happening to you. Aren’t you a little curious about that?”

“Of course I am,” Martin defended. “But at the risk of our lives?”

“That’s…” Rasmus stopped and scratched the back of his head, expression clouding with conflict. “…that’s not an answer I can make for you. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to get involved to get hurt, but at the same time I really, _really_ want to figure out what’s going on. It’s kind of like fate, no? The two of us going to the rooftop that night and watching the meteor shower. If my theory is right then everything can be tied back to that night.”

Admittedly, Martin was hoping for the different type of fate between him and Rasmus that night, but the idea that he was _always_ going to become a summoner and fight off dangerous creatures did not fill him with comfort. Thankfully, Rasmus pressed on, ignorant of the storm brewing in Martin’s head.

“Well, it’s not like what I or the rest of the team thinks matters that much in the end.”

Martin blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, not to put any pressure on you, but this is kind of your decision to make, no? You’re the only one that can use the sword, and you’re the one that saved Yamato. There’s nothing we can really do if you don’t want to go to the police even if the rest of us wanted to.”

Did his shoulders get heavier somehow? Martin was vaguely aware that this was the case, but to hear Rasmus lay it out so plainly made his gut drop and his head split. His earlier vote had more to do with him not being ready to make a decision than him not actually wanting to go to the police.

His silence must have unnerved the smaller Dane, because Rasmus then asked back, “Do _you_ agree with what Jankos said?”

“I…”

A faint mist began rolling in.

He stopped, grateful for the interruption to his current train of thought and looked around. A thin sheet of Mist began surrounding them from all sides, originating from further up ahead of the road and going down it like a wave. It didn’t stay thin for long. Slowly, it grew thicker and thicker until Martin could barely see Rasmus next to him, and the pedestrians on the street were little more than shadowy outlines.

“That’s weird,” Rasmus commented. “I don’t remember the weather report saying that there would be any mist today.”

Martin was about to say that he didn’t either when he felt a familiar shiver run down his back, and it came to him that this was no normal mist. Everyone else got the memo not long after, the cars on the street grinded to a halt, and he heard a few people shouting at their phones for turning off. _This is the same as Maokai._

A flash of green light. A scream. A shadow from deeper within the mist dropping to the pavement with a thud.

“Rasmus, get behind me,” Martin instructed, the Riser appearing in his hand.

With a worried look on his face, the ADC nodded and complied even as the people around them began screaming and running from where the light was. Eventually, it was only them that stayed behind, and a green light began blinking to life from within the mist, pointing directly at Martin. The light grew brighter and brighter as the air tingled and grew heavy with an unknown energy, and Martin knew then and there that it was time to leave.

“ _Access Granted: Wunder._ ”

“ _Riftrise_.”

He scooped up Caps in his arms and leapt away just as a beam shot out and struck where he once was. It missed, but the shooter was persistent. They fired out volley of beams that electrified the air and made it whistle. Wunder dodged each and every one by the skin of his teeth. Still, he couldn’t fight back with the cargo in his arms, so he turned around and began running. He didn’t stop until his sight was clear and he could see the evening sky once more. Skidding to a halt, he set Caps down and kept an eye on the mist at all times. It seemed to have stopped its advance for some reason. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Was that…”

He was interrupted as a woman broke through the barrier of the mist, eyes wide and breath ragged, only to be hit by a green beam from behind. It didn’t burn a hole into her like he thought it would. Instead it latched onto her, seized her like hook on a fish. With a jerk, the green light pulled out what looked like a transparent silhouette of the woman. Her real body fell to the floor, while the silhouette still tried to struggle even as it was swallowed up by the mist, mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

Wunder caught her body before her head hit the concrete. He pressed his ear against her chest and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a heartbeat.

“Is she alive?” Caps asked.

“Yeah. She’s just out cold, I think.”

“More than that,” a cool voice called from within the mist. “She’s not going to be waking up anytime soon.”

Light footsteps echoed from within the mist, growing louder and louder until a lithe figure became visible. They broke through the barrier, revealing a woman wearing a black, skintight suit under a white hood and cloak. Thick dreadlocks fell over her gaunt face, and over her shoulders a large, ornate cannon twice her size.

Caps recognized her right away. “Senna?”

“In the flesh.” The champion inspected her arm, watching as it shifted from flesh and blood into a spectral, ghostly form and then back again. “Well, almost.” She turned her emerald gaze to Wunder. “And you must be the summoner I’ve heard so much about.”

Wunder set the unconscious woman down gently, rising to his full height and gripping his sword tight. “I didn’t know I have a reputation.”

“You don’t, but I have my sources.”

 _The Raven?_ Wunder didn’t even know where to begin with that, but that didn’t matter for now. An enemy was right in front of him, so there was only one thing he could do. He raised his blade and asked, “What are you doing to these people?”

“None of your concern, but if you must know…” Senna brandished the centerpiece of her cannon, an orb that was filled to the brim with wisps that thrashed around inside it. If Wunder looked closely, he could almost see human faces among them. “I’m borrowing their souls to accomplish a goal of mine.”

“Are you planning on giving them back?”

“Won’t be possible, I’m afraid.”

“Do you _want_ to give them back?”

For a moment, Senna pursed her lips and stared off into the distance. “I would if I could. I’m not delusional. I understand that what I’m doing is wrong, and that you have every right to try and stop me. I’ve accepted that, at the end of this, I’ll have their blood in my hands, but what I’m after is _worth it_.” Senna’s gaze locked with Wunder’s own, and the determination in those eyes sent his heart quivering. “I don’t expect you to understand, so I’ll only ask this once. I don’t have any desire to fight you, but I won’t back down if you get in my way. So please, take your friend and leave.”

Wunder shook his head. “You know I can’t do that.”

Senna took a deep breath. “Very well then.”

She brought her cannon down, pointed it at Wunder, and fired.

Wunder rolled to the side, the tips of the beam singing his soles. When he came to a halt, he saw Senna disappearing back into the mist. He knew it for what it was: an invitation. He needed to come to Senna more than Senna needed to come to him, why wouldn’t she force the battle on favorable terrain? Pursuing her there would no doubt be a bad idea, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Get to safety,” he told Caps. “Make sure you don’t get swallowed up by the mist.”

And with that, he ran headfirst into Senna’s hunting ground.

It only took him a few steps to realize that going in was a _terrible_ idea. His vision was a blanket of white, unable to see even a few feet in front of him. Judging by how accurately Senna was landing her shots earlier, it seemed that she didn’t share the issue. In short, he was a sitting duck, ripe and ready to be picked off.

But not all hope was lost. Senna’s cannon packed some serious firepower, but it looked unwieldly and border useless in short-range combat. If he managed to get up-close and personal, victory would surely be his. All he had to do was get on top of her.

 _Easier said than done_. First, he needed to find her in this damned mist. If all else failed, he resorted to his ultimate weapon:

His big, stupid mouth.

“You don’t have to do this!” He called out, confident that he would hear her. “If you just tell me what you want, then maybe I could help you. You don’t want to hurt those people, right?”

“I don’t,” Senna answered from somewhere to his right. “But I doubt you can help me. I’ve tried _everything_. This is the only way.”

“How do you expect me to accept that when I don’t even know what your goal is?” Wunder shot back. No reply came, but instead he heard a whirring to his right side and saw the telltale green light of the cannon’s barrel in the distance.

 _Bingo_.

The air sung as Senna fired. A ghastly beam flew through the air, visible even through the thick mist, and headed directly towards Wunder. He sidestepped it at the last moment, the heat of the beam beating on his torso. Limit Time coursed through his veins, strengthening his muscles, heightening his senses. Energized, he kicked the concrete, and in a burst of speed he closed the distance between him and Senna.

But when he swung at where the shot came, his blade met empty air.

 _Shit_. Senna must have moved as soon as she fired. He needed to reorient himself or else—

A beam hit his shoulder, sending him stumbling back. The pain spread down to his arm like a wildfire. Another shot soared towards him, and he managed to parry it with a flick of his blade. The third shot he saw coming, and he twisted his body away from it. Limit Time reactivated and he pursued her again, but when he landed at where he thought Senna was, the only thing greeting him was a barrage of bolts to his back, sending him face first into the concrete.

Wunder let out a guttural groan, his back searing. This must be what it felt like to be kited in real life. _Got to say, ten times worse than what it is in-game_. Still, if there was anything his years of gameplay had taught him, it was that a lone ADC was a vulnerable ADC, and that they couldn’t run away if properly CC’d.

Luckily, he had just the thing.

“Fool me once, shame on you,” Wunder muttered to himself as he rose to his knees, the green light whirring to life at the corner of his eyes. He opened the holder on his waist and pulled out a capsule. “Fool me twice, shame on me.”

“ _Maokai_.”

He inserted the capsule into the Riser’s skillslot and jammed the point of his blade into the ground.

“ _Skillrise: Maokai.”_

Gnarled roots burst out from the concrete road, snaking their way towards Senna. They disappeared into the mist, and Wunder couldn’t even see if they found Senna or not, but judging by the flickering and thrashing of the green light, it appeared that they found their mark.

Not wasting anytime, Wunder rushed headfirst towards the light, his legs screaming at him after successive, strenuous use, and threw his entire body into one big, clumsy swing of his fist. He still couldn’t see Senna, but his knuckles smashed against soft, meaty flesh. All he could feel was a surge of satisfaction from deep within his gut.

Senna was flung back, the roots unable to hold her down. Wunder heard a _thud_ as the Champion crashed onto the asphalt. Not long after, the mist began to fade, seeping into nothingness as his vision cleared. He must have knocked the concentration needed to maintain it out of her. His gaze landed on Senna as she rose, glaring at him with determination as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Now then,” Wunder said, summoning his sword once more. “Let’s try that again.”

* * *

“No, no, no, no, no.”

The tables had turned. Without the mist and range advantage to cover her, Senna couldn’t hope to compete against the summoner. He drove her back, unleashing a series of slashes across her torso that sent sparks flying and her reeling. She put her Relic Cannon up as a shield, but Wunder simply moved past her before she could react and struck her in the back.

“It’s too early for her to be harvested. She’s barely even begun secreting Rune Factor!”

“Getting greedy, are we?” Nocturne commented.

Tahm Kench scoffed. “What do _you_ know of greed? This is just bad business.”

“So, what are you going to do about? Are you really just going to let the summoner make this shard go to waste?”

The River King opened his mouth, but then closed it, looking at his demonic compatriot with a strange look in his eyes. “For the record, I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Do you now?”

Tahm Kench said nothing more. He summoned a whirlpool at his feet and sank into it.

* * *

“ _Skillrise: Kayle_.”

Senna clambered to her feet, smoke rising from where the G2 Riser cut into her. She was persistent, Wunder would give her that, but she had to break eventually. This would be the final blow.

Wunder drew his sword back as it shone with a golden light. Senna tried to pull her cannon up, but found her arms too shaky to support its weight. No chance of running too, her body too battered to avoid his next strike. He almost felt bad for continuing his assault, but he had no other choice. So long as she still had the will to fight, she was a threat, and this was the only way to separate the shard from its host.

The summoner took a step forward and thrusted his blade.

The blade of light soared through the air like a missile, aiming directly at Senna’s chest. But before it could reach its mark, a pillar of water surged forth from the ground, barring its path. The pillar split apart, revealing a portly, well-dressed man. He opened his jaw to an almost comical, if extremely unnatural, width and caught the blade of light in his mouth. Instead of piercing through, or even cutting the man, Kayle’s sword stopped entirely, lodged inside the man’s gaping maw. The man, if it was even a man, tilted his head up and swallowed the sword in one giant gulp, burping and beating his chest when he was done.

“What the…” Caps trailed off, and Wunder would have reprimanded the other boy for following them if it weren’t for the shiver that crawled down his spine, pulling it ramrod straight, and the massive headache he got just from seeing the man.

The man looked at Senna over his shoulder. “Leave, I’ll take care of this.”

For her part, Senna complied, turned around, and fled the scene.

“Wait!” Wunder tried to pursue, but the mystery man stepped to the side and barred his path. The man clicked his tongue and waggled a finger, a wicked smirk on his lip.

“Ah, ah, ah! I’m sorry, but I can’t have you eliminating her just yet. She’s barely getting started as it is!”

“And just who the fuck are you?” Wunder barked, his patience at its end. The sudden drop in his mood once the man appeared did not help at all.

“Me?” the man asked with a jovial tone, exaggeratedly placing a hand on his chest. “Ah, right, how rude of me. I haven’t even introduced myself.” The man took off his top hat and bowed at Wunder. “I have gone by many names in the past, but for the moment I go by the name Forneus. A pleasure to properly make your acquaintance, Summoner Wunder.”

Every word that poured from that man’s mouth felt like a knife to Wunder’s head, and his sword arm twitched in anticipation, begging to cut Forneus into pieces. The worst part about it all was that this felt familiar. He had encountered this man before, but where?

_Properly…_

“The studio…” Wunder mumbled, his mind suddenly clear. “You were at the studio that day. You’re the one I sensed!”

Forneus broke into laughter, slapping his thigh. “I knew it! I knew you knew I was there that day!”

Wunder grit his teeth and clenched his blade as another realization dawned on him, one that made him see red. “You’re the one that transformed Yamato into Maokai!”

“And you can put two and two together too, amazing!” Forneus chuckled, clapping his hands together. “But yes, you got it right. I was the one who catalyzed his transformation into Another Maokai. How could I not when his desires were bubbling up so prominently? It’s much the same with Another Senna, though, again, I must ask for your patience. She isn’t ready for consumption just yet.”

“What are you doing to them? Why are you doing this?” He could tell, this man had all the answers to his questions, and he wasn’t about to let him get away. Wunder was sick and tired of not knowing _anything_.

“What, you think I’m going to share my plan right of the bat? It’s too early, boy! Where’s your sense of mystery? Your love of suspense?” Forneus shook his head. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Wunder smashed the Access Key on his hilt. “If you’re not going to give me the answers I want—”

“ _Shardbreak_.”

“—Then I’ll beat them out of you.”

Forneus licked his lips. “Feisty.”

Wunder bent his knees, pooling his suit’s power to his legs and sword. Once he felt them almost burst with energy, he leapt into the sky, raised his sword above his head, and brought it down.

His sword split the very air in half as Wunder descended, a thin line marking the space where he had cut. But when he reached Forneus, the man held a hand out and caught the Riser in his palm. Laughing, he swung the sword and Wunder himself around before throwing him back at Caps feet.

The air that whooshed out of his lungs after landing could not dampen Wunder’s anger.

“I don’t know where you came from, but I’m sending you back there in a body bag!” The summoner snarled, rising to his feet.

But all Forneus did was laugh and grin; stained, jagged, misshapen teeth in full display. “That isn’t possible at the moment, I’m afraid. That being said, I’m afraid that I’ll have to cut this short. I’m not here to fight you today, and I already completed what I set out to do.”

A whirlpool appeared at Forneus’ feet, and slowly, the man began sinking into it.

“Wait!” Wunder cried, running at Forneus with arm outstretched.

“Until next time. Ciao!” With one final tip of his top hat, Forneus disappeared into the whirlpool, leaving Wunder grasping at empty air.

With a scream of frustration, Wunder kicked the gravel under his feet. His anger did not lessen even as he cancelled his transformation, his breath heavy in a vain attempt to not punch anything. He had it. He almost had it. All of the answers he sought were just within his grasp.

“…Wunder?” Rasmus came up to him, looking up with careful eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay!?” Martin snapped, and immediately regretted it when he saw the smaller Dane flinch. “Shit, Ras, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

“N-No, it’s fine.” Rasmus’ shoulders slumped. “That was… an experience.”

“Yeah.” Martin sighed, the anger finally ebbing away and leaving him dead tired. “You can say that again.”

“You ran into him before?”

“Literally. I had this strange feeling come over me when someone bumped into me in the studio, like I was sensing that they were—I don’t really know how to put this better— _wrong_. That must have been him.”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?”

Now it was Martin’s turn to wince. “I… I’m sorry, it slipped my mind. So many things happened that day that I still don’t know how to process it all.” And that wasn’t even a lie, even if he wasn’t ready to share quite a few details from his teammates.

Rasmus still looked skeptical, which only made Martin feel even more shit. “Okay… Well, I think we should leave before the cops get here. Let’s head back to the apartment and figure out our next move.”

“What about Senna’s victims?”

“I checked some of them over while on the way here; all of them are in the same sleeping state.” The ADC breathed through his teeth. “There are… a lot of people. More than we can watch over. It’s probably best if we let the police handle it.”

Martin nodded. “Right. Let’s—”

A flash of blue caught his eye. It was that figure again. The same one he saw in the studio and at the park, the one who returned everything back to normal. This time it was floating on the corner of a building down the road. It had no eyes, but Martin could tell that it was staring straight at him.

“Wunder?” Rasmus interrupted, squinting at the same corner. “What are you looking at?”

“That blue figure.” Martin pointed straight at it, and the figure still didn’t move. “Over there. You really can’t see it?”

“See what?” The figure turned to its right and disappeared around the corner. _Oh no you don’t_. Martin was done being left without answers. He ran, following the figure around the corner, leaving Rasmus in the dust. “W-Wait, Wunder where are you going?”

When he turned the corner, he saw the figure floating into an alleyway. “Please stop! I just want to talk to you.” He didn’t even know if it could understand him, but he had to try.

“Talk to who!?” Rasmus asked, out of breath as he followed behind Martin. “Wunder, what’s gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain later—just follow me for now.” Martin took off again, rounding the alleyway to find the blue figure floating stock still at the center with its back turned to him. Just as Martin was about to call out again, the figure turned to him, its mask-like face revealing nothing, and let out a flash of light. It singed Martin’s eyes and forced him to jam his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the figure was gone.

“Damn it!” he cursed, going over to the spot where the figure had disappeared in the hopes of finding more clues. There _had_ to be something here. Getting cucked twice in one day was two times too many.

“Will you stop and please tell me what’s going on?” Rasmus asked, raising his voice. It was not often that he did so, and the times that he did Martin could tell that his teammate’s patience was wearing thin, but he found it hard to focus on that. Not when he was getting desperate for a sign of _anything_.

“You really didn’t see it?” At Rasmus’ blank look, Martin continued sputtering out. “There was this—this blue statue thing. It was watching us and it was just here before it disappeared. It—It was at the studio too, a-and the park. It was the one putting everything back together.”

“Wunder…” he didn’t like how Rasmus was looking at him, like he was a bomb about to detonate. “I didn’t see anyone there. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine! I just—I’m not crazy, all right? I’m not crazy.” He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it, hoping that the pain would dull his splitting headache. The last half-hour wound him up too tight, he was a spring begging for release. “I know what I saw. I just—”

His eyes landed on the wall to his right, and what he saw carved into the brick walls gave him pause. It was the Summoner’s Rift symbol, the one that depicted all three lanes as a square-shaped engraving and was around the size of a widescreen television. In the middle of it was a peculiar keyhole.

“Is that what I think it is?” Rasmus asked, and then pointed at the keyhole. “You don’t think your key fits into that, do you?”

“Only one way to find out.” He summoned the Access Key from his chest and inserted it into the keyhole. It went in without resistance, and the symbol lit to life, taking on the blue and gold coloring he would often see in the League client.

The symbol rippled, and Martin’s hand disappeared into the wall.

“Wunder!” Rasmus cried, grabbing a hold of Martin’s other hand, but it was too late. Before the toplaner could process what was happening, he was being sucked into the wall, hand still clasping tightly with Rasmus’ own.

All he could feel was a quick rush of air, and suddenly he was standing in the middle of a dark room. Rasmus was still with him, at least. The smaller Dane Trembled a bit and tightened his hold on Martin’s hand. Before the toplaner could whisper words of comfort to calm the ADC down, the lights came to life, revealing a room that Wunder could best describe as both a cave and a high-tech meeting room. At the center was a round table with a series of benches surrounding it. To its left was beehive-like fixture on the wall that held what appeared to be Champion Shards, five to be exact. To its right was the bush-like LEC symbol, encircled by ten holes, one of which was occupied by the G2 Riser. Across from them was a wide screen that lit up, revealing a teal ‘eye’ that gazed at them both.

“Identified: ‘Wunder’ Martin Hansen and ‘Caps’ Rasmus Winther,” The screen said in monotone. It whirred, and when it next spoke, it sounded more relaxed and human-like.

“Welcome to the Nexus, summoner. I am the Remote Monitor of Laws, or R.M.L for short, the intelligence charged with maintaining and operating this base of operations, as well as assisting you in combating the shard threat. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  R.M.L Codex   
>  **
> 
> G2 Riser  
>  _Spirit Essence Summoning Sword_
> 
> A mysterious device that grants its wielder the ability to summon and channel the power of heroes from ages past. This is accomplished through the use of mysterious shards that holds the essence of Runeterra’s champions. Those who can wield the power of the Shards, and thus who possesses a Riser, are known as Summoners.
> 
> When an Access Key, the crystallization of its wielder’s soul, is inserted into it, it transforms said wielder into a spiritual existence, granting them increased strength, speed, durability, stamina, and reflexes. More importantly, a spiritual existence is more malleable and receptive to changes to its being, and thus can channel the power of the shards better than a purely physical existence can.
> 
> Additional use and details of this item remain unknown.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Skillrise  
>  _Partial Champion Essence Summoning_
> 
> In truth, the act of summoning and channelling is a dangerous one. Those who try and wield the power of a shard without care may find their body and soul overtaken by the essence of the champion within it, especially if the shard is one of strong will. To combat this risk, the Riser system provides two ways for its wielder to safely summon the power of the shards.
> 
> Skillrise is a powerful but momentary release and channelling of a champion’s power through its shard. In essence, it is like puncturing a hole in an excessively filled water balloon. By building up pressure within a shard through inactivity and only allowing it to release that energy in a brief moment, a greater output can be obtained without risking possession due to prolonged use of the shard. Once a shard has been used for a skillrise, it must remain inert for a period of time to build up energy again.


	11. Game 3: The Remote Monitor of Laws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// Panic Attacks, Vomitting
> 
> After ten thousand years, I have returned! Let's hope the next chapter doesn't take another ten thousand years.
> 
> Special thanks to Floraly_fic and Fabulous_Hasi for helping Beta this chapter.

Rasmus looked up from his phone. “Miky says that they’re here.”

Martin nodded and turned to the main screen. “Do I need to go out and pick them up or something?”

“I’ve already unlocked the pathway,” R.M.L replied, the teal orb representing it blinking as it spoke. “They simply need to touch the rift symbol to go through.”

Nodding, Rasmus turned back to his phone and texted the instructions to Miky. Martin watched as the messages flew by on the screen. “I’m surprised that a cave like this has signal and Wi-Fi.”

“This is no ordinary cave, Martin Hansen.”

The toplaner snorted. “Yeah, I gathered.” He glanced over to the landing pad he and Rasmus had landed on half an hour ago. When the Slovenian support (and his two simps) failed to appear after a few minutes, Martin turned to the other Dane with a quizzical eyebrow. “What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know,” Rasmus replied as he scrolled through his messages. “The last thing he said was ‘okay…’ with ellipses. Do you think he doesn’t believe me?”

“It is kind of weird,” Martin pointed out.

“Yeah, but—”

Before Rasmus could finish, the landing pad activated, releasing a pillar of light that reached the ceiling. A moment later the pillar disappeared, revealing a wide-eyed and befuddled Miky.

“What the hell?” The support breathed as he took in the room.

Rasmus’ eyes brightened. “Miky, you’re here!”

“Rasmus? Wunder?” Miky’s eyes landed on them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “You guys are okay. I uh… I got your message.”

Martin nodded and turned his attention to the landing pad, which remained inactive. “Where are Jankos and Luka?”

At the mention of their teammates, Miky huffed and rolled his eyes. “Probably still out there arguing about whether or not this was a trap. I got tired of it so I just went ahead and touched the symbol. I probably freaked them out, so they should be here right about—”

The landing pad turned on once more. A pair of bodies stumbled out from the pillar of light, slamming into Miky before he could react and sending them tumbling down to the floor.

“—now,” Miky groaned from the bottom of the pile.

Martin looked to Rasmus, who simply shrugged.

Luka’s head popped out of the pile, glaring at the head of blond hair beneath him. “Oh, so now you want to go in?”

Jankos tilted his head upwards, eyebrows slanted down, and snapped back. “Miky disappeared, what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not push me around? Or better yet, not be a fucking coward in the first place?”

“Can we not do this now?” Miky said, gasping from the bottom of the pile. “I’d like to be able to breathe again, thanks.”

“Oh shit. Sorry Miky!” The three untangled themselves from each other and stood up, brushing themselves off. Martin noted that Miky had smoothly maneuvered himself between his jungler and midlaner, though the two were still shooting each other dirty looks. Martin cleared his throat, and two heads turned towards him.

“Holy shit,” Jankos said. “You guys are actually here.”

“See?” Luka jabbed at the Pole, voice thick with an unbearable smugness. “Told you it was really them.” He turned to the two Danes and explained, “He thought something bad happened to you guys and the text was something to lure us into a trap.”

Jankos rolled his eyes. “Yes, because I’m the idiot for not wanting to run in blind. Real fucking smart, Luka.”

“You—”

“Anyway,” Miky cut in, the tension thick in his voice. He turned to Rasmus and Martin and asked, “What happened to you two out there? We saw the news about the mist, and there were police lines and ambulances everywhere when we got here.”

“It was Senna,” Rasmus clarified. “Long story short, she was stealing people’s souls and we got caught in the crossfire. Wunder fought and beat her, but she managed to get away with some outside help. After that…'' he trailed off, turning to look at Martin with apprehensive eyes. The toplaner cringed.

“I was led here.” He didn’t dare divulge _what_ led him here. Not just yet.

Jankos took in the room for the first time, mouth agape. Martin could only imagine what was going through his jungler’s mind, seeing the cave-like walls and ceiling intercut with pieces of austere decorations, computer screens, and cutting-edge technology that seemed to have jumped out of a sci-fi novel.

“What is this place?” Jankos asked.

“That is what I’ve been trying to find out,” Martin turned to the main screen at the end of the hall and glared at it. “They’re here. Now are you finally going to explain?”

“Certainly,” R.M.L replied, the teal orb on the screen shimmering as it spoke. The voice seemed to sound from everywhere around them, as if the very walls themselves spoke. “Apologies for stalling, I simply wished to avoid repeating myself for your teammates.”

A blanket of silence fell over the three newcomers. Jankos pointed a finger at the screen and dumbly said, “That computer just talked.”

“That computer has a name.” R.M.L spoke in what must be the most neutral tone that Martin had ever heard, but he could still sense the smidgeon of annoyance in its words. It appeared that not even computers were immune to Jankos’ charms. “‘Mikyx’ Mihael Mehle, ‘Perkz’ Luka Perkovich, ‘Jankos’ Marcin Jankowski. Welcome to the Nexus, a base designed to monitor the stability of this world and assist the Summoner in his battle against the Another Champions. I am the intelligence charged with running and maintaining this location. You may refer to me as the Remote Monitor of Laws, or R.M.L for short.”

Jankos scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, a pleasure to make your acquaintance?”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Despite the pleasant words, R.M.L still spoke in that same monotone manner, leaving Martin unsure if it meant what it said or not. “Now, I’m sure you are curious as to why you have been called here.”

“Just a little,” Martin shot back, letting some of his frustrations leak out.

“Simply put, we believe that it is about time that you are properly briefed on the situation.”

“We?”

“All in due time,” R.M.L stated. “For now, please take a seat at the table and make yourselves comfortable. This will not be a short discussion.”

With a little hesitation, they took their seats at the roundtable. Ideally, Martin wanted them all to sit side-by-side to keep everyone within arm’s reach, just in case, but the seats were positioned so that everyone took up equal space.

There was a centerpiece to the table, a blue crystal fixture that jutted out and resembled a, well, nexus. The teal eye disappeared from the screen and reappeared inside the nexus crystal. When the intelligence next spoke, it seemed to come from the crystal only. “Thank you for your cooperation. Now I’m sure that you’re all brimming with questions, ask and I shall do answer them all to the best of my abilities.”

This was it. This was the out that he had been looking for all week, but he had too many questions that he didn’t even know where to start. The shards? The champions? The swords? It was all too much. He could feel his teammates' eyes boring down on him. They knew that it was only fair that he got to have his questions answered first. He stared deep into the crystal, and for a moment, he felt the Remote Monitor of Laws staring back.

There was something that had been nagging him ever since R.M.L introduced himself, something that wouldn’t leave him.

“Your name,” Martin cut in, his skin tingling from all the questions squirming underneath. _One at a time_. “What is that supposed to mean? What laws? Why are you monitoring them? Are you some kind of government AI or something?”

“Or something.” There it was again, the tinge of humanity that Martin couldn’t quite attribute to a normal computer, or even AI from what he had seen. “To answer that question, I would ask another. What would you say are the laws of this world?”

What kind of question was that? Martin had come this far for answers, he supposed he could humor for a bit. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t steal, don’t kill, don’t jaywalk?”

“Those are the laws of men, Martin Hansen. I am asking about the laws that run the world.”

Jankos’ face scrunched up. “Is this some kind of trick question?”

“I assure you that it is not. You all should know the answer to this.”

Martin was tempted to call the computer out on its bullshit, but from across the table Miky perked up. “Do you mean physical laws?”

“What laws?” Rasmus asked.

“You know like how the earth revolves around the sun, the sky is blue, force equals mass times acceleration,” Miky explained. “Things that are just, well, _are_.”

“That would be correct, Mihael Mehle,” R.M.L said, leaving Miky with an oddly smug look on his face.

“Actually, you can call me Miky if you want. Everyone calls me that anyway.”

“If that would please you.”

“Thank you, R.M.L.” Miky stopped and frowned. “Doesn’t really flow off the tongue, does it.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a mouthful for three syllables,” Rasmus agreed, stroking his chin. He then looked down at the crystal, his eyes brightening. “Do you mind if we give you a nickname?”

R.M.L paused for a moment. And then slowly, deliberately, he said, “I have no objections to this.”

Rasmus hummed. “How about Remi?”

“Kinda too cutesy, no?” Jankos objected.

“It is fine for its purpose,” the intelligence spoke. “You may refer to me as Remi from now on.”

The ADC clapped his hands together. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rem—er, I’m sorry, are you okay with mister or…”

“I..” Remi hesitated. “I prefer masculine pronouns, but we’re getting off track. Where were we?”

“Laws?” Miky supplied.

“Ah, yes. Miky is correct. The laws that I watch over are the laws that govern reality. The earth revolves around the sun because of the sun’s gravity, the sky is blue because of the way earth’s atmosphere scatters light, and an object accelerates because force is applied to it.”

“I think I’m starting to get it,” Luka cut in. “But why do they need to be monitored? Miky’s right, don’t they just – I don’t know – exist as they are?”

“And what if I tell you that those laws can be changed? That they were different long ago and will one day be very different as well?”

Miky scoffed “What, like lightning and thunder only happens because somewhere up in the sky a god is angry?” When Remi didn’t answer, Miky’s jaw fell. “No way.”

The implication set in for the rest of the team as well, and Martin could feel a headache coming in. There just had to be more to it, isn’t there? “So what, are you trying to say that all those myths are real? That magic is real?”

“Were real,” Remi corrected. “But that’s a discussion for another day. What matters is that the laws set in place today are there for a reason. They follow the common sense of man, a consensus of laws humanity has subconsciously agreed to and chosen as true, and nothing outside those laws can exist here. Your modern human society was built upon these laws, and for them to change drastically and quickly would only spell disaster for you all.”

Martin recalled the words Maokai said to him in their first encounter. ‘ _The texture of this world will soon be reshaped and the local laws overwritten_.’

“The shards,” Martin said without much thought. “They’re not just turning people into champions, are they? They’re changing the world too?” Turning people into trees, stealing their souls, these were things that should have gone against those laws.

“That would be correct, yes.”

Martin shivered, his spine tingling despite the warmth of the nexus. He could feel his stomach turning and churning as Remi’s words began to set in. “What is happening?” he just asked, voice heavy and tired. “Just tell us already. Explain to us why our lives are being turned upside down.”

For a moment, Remi said nothing. Despite the sphere that represented him having no sides, Martin got the distinct feeling that the intelligence was facing him and him alone.

“Very well,” Remi said, and the room dimmed. Above the table, a hologram of a planet blinked to life, and Martin may not be knowledgeable in geography but he knew at a glance that it was not earth.

“Long ago, there was a world far different than your own,” Remi began. “A world ruled not only by gods and magic, but also by innovation and the march of technology. To the west was a utopia where law and order reigned; to the north, a frigid wasteland where three tribes fought for supremacy; in the east, a land where men and spirits walk side-by-side; and in the south, a lost kingdom forgotten to the sands.”

“Runeterra,” Rasmus breathed.

“Indeed. I know it may seem hard to believe that a world that you thought was fictional turned out to have been real, but I assure you that it was indeed real. You yourselves had already seen proof of that.”

None of them objected. Maokai was real. Senna was real. After everything they had seen, the idea of Runeterra being real didn’t seem too far fetched.

Realization dawned on Jankos’ face, and the jungler spoke up, “Was real?”

“To put it bluntly—” The hologram of Runeterra crumbled apart, leaving only motes of dust as its remnants. “—Runeterra came to an end. Constant warfare and abuse of magic pushed the world to it’s brink, and in the end it died a violent death. The nations that once stood there, the people that once lived there, the history and culture that persevered through generation after generation, gone.”

Martin felt himself getting queasy. He knew nothing of the people of Runeterra, what their culture was like, how they lived their lives, but the idea that all of them died and their world ended, leaving no one and nothing to remember them by, drilled a hole into his gut and left him feeling empty. Judging by the ashen faces of his teammates, they were feeling much the same. But Miky pressed on, brave soul that he was.

“But not all of it is gone,” Miky objected, strangely confident in his words despite being shaken by what he had just learned. “If it is, then why is League of Legends a thing? And why are the shards and champions appearing now of all times?”

“You would be correct once more, Miky.” There was an odd sense of amusement and pride in Remi’s voice, one that Martin wasn’t sure how to feel about. “Yes, not all of it is gone. Runeterra died a violent death, but it didn’t die clean. Remnants of it still remain after its destruction.” On the hologram, the motes of dust that was once Runeterra began clumping together, forming familiar blue crystals. “Some of the remnants came in the form of shards, crystals that houses the ideas, histories, and wills of the people and nations that defined Runeterra. Other remnants were scattered and in disarray, forming a faint dust and particles of sorts, and Runeterra’s destruction blew them far and wide. For ease, we will refer to them as the rune factor.” The dust that didn’t clump into crystals flew away, and the hologram display followed it. Martin had a faint where they were headed.

A new world popped up in the hologram display, this one far more familiar, and the traveling rune factor washed over it. “Roughly forty years ago, the rune factor reached earth, and bits and pieces of Runeterra found a home here.”

“Wait, pause for a moment,” Jankos cut in. “If it was anything like the meteor shower last week—actually, the meteor shower really was the shards, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then why isn’t there any proof of it happening? Scientists would want to know about that, no?”

“You misunderstand,” Remi chided. “The rune factor didn’t come in the form of a meteorite, or even physical particles and dust. No, they came in the form of ideas. In knowledge and concepts that seeped into the world itself and its people.

“Wait, then—” Martin could see the gears turning in Rasmus’ head. “Is that why League of Legends is a thing? Why the lore is about the story of Runeterra?”

“I have not confirmed for sure myself, but there is no other logical explanation. That being said, we doubt that the developers did it intentionally. We suspect that it is the rune factor residing within them that subtly guides their hand.”

“People can have rune factor?” Luka asked.

“Indeed. In fact, all of you possess a high concentration of rune factor.”

Everyone stopped and looked down on their bodies. All of a sudden, Martin felt weird within his own skin.

“Remember that rune factor is the spreading of ideas and concepts,” Remi explained once more. “League of Legends possesses a high amount of ideas and knowledge regarding Runeterra, given that you all spend a significant amount of time interacting with it, it’s natural that the rune factor would be transferred to you as well.”

“Okaaay,” Luka said, flexing his hands as if to make sure that they were his. “The story doesn’t end there, does it? Things were okay for years, so why did the shards come down now?”

“Right, yes.” The holographic display moved from earth back to the array of shards. “The shards themselves still remained as Runeterra’s final legacy, and with its dying breath, the planet empowered one of the last few souls that remained on Runeterra at the end to watch over and protect those shards.”

A statuesque figure appeared on the hologram, and Martin’s breath hitched. Without realizing it, he rose to his feet and pointed at the picture.

“That’s it,” Martin spoke, shuddering. “That’s the thing I’ve been seeing everywhere, the one that wiped everyone’s memories and turned everything back to normal.”

He could feel his teammates gazes boring into him, Rasmus looking up at him, but Martin couldn’t care less. For the first time in weeks, he felt light, relieved, like his chest wasn’t trying to cave in on itself. _I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy_.

“Indeed,” Remi spoke, oddly soft. “He was the one that chose you to become a summoner, the one that granted you the power to fight back against Maokai. He was also the one that led you here.”

Martin’s hand went up to clutch his chest. Sometimes, he could still feel the blow that almost killed him, remember the sensation of feeling everything and nothing at the same time when Maokai struck him, remember the warmth that enveloped him as he slipped away.

“He saved my life,” Martin breathed. He summoned his holder and pulled out the Kayle capsule. On the wall across him, the one that stored the shards, he noticed one disappearing. Martin looked down at the capsule and clenched it tight. “He was there too, wasn’t he? On the night of the meteor shower. He was the one who gave me Kayle.”

The silence said enough. Martin looked down at Remi, a strange resoluteness in his chest. “Who is he?”

“He is known as the Keeper, Runeterra’s last survivor, and the one who has been charged with safeguarding the shards for all eternity.”

Luka scoffed. “Looks like he didn’t do a good job.”

“Mind your tongue,” Remi barked, and Martin made sure to make a mental note of this. “If it weren’t for him, you would all be dead now.”

Jankos cleared his throat. “So what happened to him?”

“He was attacked.” The hologram broke apart and reformed as four distinct creatures. One of them was a giant crow that emitted a crimson lighting; another resembled a catfish that had arms jutting out; the third was what looked to be a man on a horse with blades for arms, only Martin couldn’t see where the horse ended and the rider began; the last one was… a bundle of ribbons? “A rebellion from within the shards of sorts. Some of them refused to accept that their time has come to an end. They ambushed the Keeper and tore apart the seal that protected the shards. They then drew the shards here to this earth.”

“The meteor shower.” Rasmus’ eyes grew wide open and Martin could sympathize. Everything was starting to fall into place. “But why would they do this? Why earth?”

“Two reasons,” Remi began. “And they are connected in a way. First is the already abundant presence of rune factor on earth, brought about by both natural spreading and League of Legends.”

Miky racked his brain. “Roughly twelve million daily players last I checked, and that’s not counting past players, merchandise, people who watch streams.” He whistled. “That’s a lot.”

“Indeed. This makes earth a natural landing point for the shards _and_ it means that they are more easily accepted by the world. Which brings me to my second point: the very crux of their plan.”

Martin could feel the energy of the room shift. Everyone leaned in, eager to hear. The hologram changed back into a globe of the earth.

“With Runeterra gone, they have no place to call their home. They are doomed to wander the cold vastness of existence for eternity unless they can find a world that they could inhabit. A world that followed Runeterra’s laws and permitted their existence. By possessing the humans here they have essentially snuck in and forced the world to recognize their existence, but that’s not all. Even if they've managed to sneak in, it’s only a temporary measure at best.”

“They want to change the earth,” Rasmus realized. “Change it into Runeterra – change the laws so that they could exist freely here.”

“You are correct. Even with the abundance of rune factor in this world, the rules are still ironclad and not easily swayed. They cannot exist here by themselves or else they will be deleted. The only way they can manifest here is by fusing with people who possess high quantities of rune factor, thereby fooling the world into thinking that it is a native.”

“And if laws are created from the consensus of man, then the champion’s presence here changes the earth’s laws to suit them,” Luka finished.

“So, what, they’re colonizing us?” Jankos asked.

“Terraforming would be a better term,” Remi replied. “To put it in simple terms, they wish to create a new Runeterra here on earth.”

“…and what would happen to us if they succeed?” the Pole asked again, even if Martin was certain that he and everyone else had an inkling on what the consequences were.

“The very end of your way of life,” the computer spoke as if it said something mundane like the grass was green. “By my estimates, billions would die in the initial chaos of the introduction of magic and other Runeterran elements. If any remnants of humanity remained, they would be sent back to the dark ages as they try to understand and make sense of their brave new world. Some would try to reestablish order, and in the ensuing conflict millions more would lose their lives. Make no mistake, I sincerely believe that humanity will survive, but it would be a millennia before they could find some semblance of peace and stability.”

Hearing it all laid out like that, so clinically laid out and matter-of-fact, was a punch to the gut. Martin felt his stomach hollow and his heartbeat slowing to a dangerous crawl. The entire world was at stake, and he was supposed to…what, defend it?

Martin gulped. “So where do I come in?”

“You are the Keeper’s chosen champion. That sword you wield is known as the G2 Riser, a relic from Runeterra’s twilight where the planet began crystalizing its essence in the form of the shards. In those times, numerous factions rose and fought against one another for supremacy, and those who came out on top had the power to harness the shards. These people are known as Summoners, and though their constant battle and abuse of magic tore Runeterra apart, they are now the only hope we have to stand against this invasion.”

“But why do you need Wunder?” Luka cut in. “Or a summoner at all? If it’s the Keeper’s job to watch over and safeguard the shards, then why doesn’t he come down and fight the champions himself? Hell, why don’t you do it?”

“Unfortunately, the limitations that the shards have also apply to us. The Keeper and I are natives of Runeterra and are not of this world, and under normal circumstances we wouldn’t have been able to exist here at all. It is because of the invasion that we have entered into a pact with the World and have been granted special permission and privileges to operate here under certain conditions.”

“Which are?” Jankos asked.

“There are many, but it can be boiled down to this: we are not allowed to interfere with the course of humanity here beyond reversing the effects and influence of a shard. The Keeper has the power to reverse all the damage a champion does and even wipe the memories of witnesses, but he cannot make it so that those events never occurred in the first place and he can only do so after a shard has been separated from his host. Even now, he cannot manifest in the physical world and can only be seen by those sensitive to magic. I myself am bound to this Nexus and to the same rules. And thus, we require a summoner to fight in our stead.”

The discussion continued on, the rest of G2 hammering Remi with question after question, but Martin began to tune it all out. He ignored all the implications of what the future held, the promises of ruin and destruction, and instead focused on how oddly light he felt. He wasn’t going crazy. He wasn’t seeing things. It was all real. There was an explanation to all of this – to the things he had been seeing and feeling – to the Keeper. For once, the path ahead looked clear. Dangerous and difficult to navigate, true, but at least he could see it.

But there was one last question that still burned in his mind.

“Why me?” he asked, silencing the room. “Why did the Keeper pick me? Why did I become a summoner?”

For a moment, Remi said nothing, the teal orb pulsing inside the crystal with a quiet contemplation. No one spoke, afraid of missing the answer, and then, “I don’t know.”

“…What?” Martin asked. “What do you mean you don’t know? Didn’t you say that you were going to answer all of our questions?”

“I said ‘to the best of my abilities’. I cannot give you an answer that I don’t have.”

“Well why don’t you have one?” Jankos asked with an accusatory tone.

“Selection of the summoner was entirely up to the Keeper. I had no input in it and he has declined to tell me his reasoning as to why. I only know that Wunder is his first and foremost choice, If you wish to know more, then you would have to take it up with him.”

“Yes, the disembodied blue guy who none of us can see or hear except for Wunder,” Jankos said. “Wait, can you even hear him?”

Martin shook his head and then turned to address Remi. “I understand if you need someone with a lot of rune factor, or even if you only made a summoner to save me from Maokai, but there has to be better candidates out there. I barely even play League anymore, if you’re looking for someone with a lot of rune factor then surely someone like Faker has way more than I do. Hell, if you need someone in Berlin then Caps is a _way_ better pick, or even Rekkles would be better.”

Remi’s orb buzzed. “It is not as simple as having more rune factor, and again, it was not my decision. You will have to ask the Keeper himself as to his reasons.”

“Again, the guy we can’t actually talk to.” Jankos turned to face the rest of his team. “Doesn’t this seem a bit shady to you guys? How do we know if we can trust anything he’s saying?”

Arms crossed and leaning back on his chair, Luka scoffed. Martin cringed and felt a headache forming.

“Something you want to share with the class, Luka?”

“Yeah, I’ll fucking share.” Luka rose to his feet, intent on towering over the jungler, but Jankos refused to let that happen and stood up as well. They stood face-to-face, almost snarling at each other. “Ever since we got back from Maokai all you’ve done is try to run away and bury your head in the sand. We almost have an answer to all of this and you’re still trying to run away and pretend none of this is happening!”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m trying my best to make sure that all of us get out of this alive,” Jankos snapped back. “And maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass for once and actually listened then you’d realize that we’re _way_ in over our heads. If the fate of the world is really at stake, then why would the Keeper pick _gamers_ of all people. The most danger we’ve ever been in is probably on the off chance that one of our flights crashes.”

“Did you miss the part where our experience in League could actually help here?”

“Did you miss the part where he said it wasn’t everything?”

“You know the main thing that pisses me off here is that I can’t believe that it’s you of all people who’s being a coward,” Luka spat. “We’re involved in this whether you like it or not, and as the only ones who still remember what happened we have a responsibility to make sure that it never happens again.”

Jankos’ hand went up to graze his ribs almost mindlessly, the same spot where, if Martin remembered correctly, a branch had sprouted out during the Maokai incident. The jungler’s eyes darted towards Miky for a blink before returning to his captain.

“This isn’t a game, Luka,” Jankos said, colder than what Martin had ever expected from the jungler. “If being a coward means that all of us are safe and sound and someone more capable than us can resolve this better than we can, then I’m fine with being a coward.”

“While this debate has its merits and is certainly worth having,” Remi interrupted. “I only really need an answer from one of you on this matter.”

All eyes turned to Martin, and as soon as the weight in his chest left, it came back with a vengeance. Not just in his chest now, but also on his shoulders, his back, his neck, the weight of the world boring down on him. The looks from his teammates drilled holes into his skin and Martin found it increasingly hard to breath. All he could manage was a pathetic, “I’m sorry?”

“You wield the Riser. You are the Summoner. Your decision is the only one here that matters,” Remi explained. “You are right, there are other people out there who would be qualified to take your place, and we are not unsympathetic to the fact that you had all of this dropped on your lap without warning or even your consent.”

“What—” Martin sucked in air through his teeth. “—What are you trying to say?”

“That we’re giving you a choice. You can stay and continue on as a summoner, in which case the Keeper and I will do our very best to guide and support you in fighting off the shard invasion, or you can back out. You’ll relinquish your riser and the ability to use the shards. We’ll have to erase your memory, but after that you’ll go back to your normal lives as if none of this had ever happened. We’ll then find someone to take over your spot.”

He should have been happy. He had a choice in all of this, a chance to decide his own fate, so why was his chest so tight?

His heart raced, beating on his ribcage like it wanted to break out. His head, his ears rang, and his arms and legs felt like jelly. All he could do was try to breath and calm himself down. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It wasn’t working.

It was all too much.

Too much.

He didn’t know how long they sat in silence but somehow, he could still hear what Rasmus said next. “Does he have to answer you now?”

“No,” Remi said. “I understand that this is a decision that cannot be made lightly. I will give you time to deliberate this fully, but I am expecting a proper answer eventually. That being said, I must ask that you stay on for the Senna case until she is neutralized. I expect her to resurface soon.”

A soft hand covered his tightly clenched fist, and only now did he notice the pale-white of his knuckles and how his nails drew blow.

“Okay,” Martin somehow squeaked out. He lost track of what happened or what was said after that, only that he somehow managed to walk all the way over to the landing pad and faced the main monitor where Remi had returned to.

“Before you go, Wunder,” Remi called out. “Know that there will be no repercussions if you do decide to relinquish your riser. Jankos is right, there are significant risks to this, to both you and those around you. You will get hurt. The people around you will get hurt. This has happened and will happen again if you choose to continue on as a summoner. You are not a coward nor are you selfish if you leave this all behind.”

“But also know that the outcome would be far, far worse if we have no summoner, if we have no one to stand against the oncoming invasion. The world needs someone to defend it, someone who could stand firm against all odds. The Keeper believes you could be that person, that you are that person, and I trust his judgement. All I ask from you is that you think about this long and hard, and that when you come to me with your answer you would have no doubt in your heart.”

The world flashed a blinding white, and when Martin blinked his eyes open they were back at the alleyway, the constant beeping of sirens in this distance.

Nobody spoke for a moment, letting everything that just happened, everything that they learned, sink in. And when it looked like some of them had had enough—

“I think—”

“You should—”

Martin retched and spat his guts out onto the pavement, promptly silencing Jankos and Luka.

His throat burned, his nose clogged, and his head light as his stomach emptied out his lunch. There was a hand on his back drawing circles, gently patting him. Martin tried his best to focus on that.

“Hey,” Rasmus coaxed. “Sssh. It’s okay. It’s okay. Just let it all out.”

That he did. He let it all out until that was left was bile and saliva. Distantly, he could hear Rasmus shooing the rest of the team away.

“That’s it,” Rasmus continued. “Now just focus on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.”

It was easier now. Breathing. Now that he had Rasmus to guide him through it. The weight was starting to lift a bit too. It was less crushing now, replaced by an all encompassing force that threatened to flatten him if he so much as slipped. But he regained his footing, so he could handle this much at least. He had to.

As he continued to bend over, hands on his knees and Rasmus by his side while he tried to recover, he heard the snippets of a conversation between the rest of his teammates. They were whispering, or at least they tried to. Martin suspected that his newfound status as a summoner helped with catching this.

“Do you trust him?” Jankos asked.

“Remi?” Miky asked. “I don’t see any reason not to. We were in his home turf that entire time and he didn’t do anything to us when it’s very clear that he could do so easily. Plus, he’s the one holding onto and supplying the shards and riser to Wunder, he could have screwed us over long before this.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that: do you believe what he’s saying? That he’s telling the truth?”

“I do…”

“Why do I feel there’s a but coming?” Luka cut in.

“…but I don’t think he’s telling the whole truth either.”

Jankos crossed his arms, lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you think he’s trying to deceive us?”

“Not really? I think he’s genuine about helping us and about fighting the shards, and his story kind of makes sense when you get your head around it. It’s just that I feel like he’s hiding something.”

“Miky, we barely spent an hour in there and the guy is apparently from a different world or universe altogether,” Luka argued. “He’s bound to have some secrets.”

“It’s not just that. We never got an answer about what he actually is beyond his current role, and what he said about why Wunder was chosen, it’s…” Miky trailed off, and then shook his head. “Ah, never mind. The better question would be can we afford to _not_ trust him? He’s the only one offering us any help, he knows way more about what’s going on, and if we don’t work with him we’re back to square one.”

With his breath finally back in control, Martin stood up straight, still focusing on the hand on his back. Rasmus gave him a final, firm pat.

“Are you going to be okay?” the smaller Dane asked.

“Yeah,” Martin said, hoping he could believe it too. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Rasmus took him by the wrist and pulled him along towards the rest of the team. Martin didn’t have the energy to resist or be indignant about it.

Luka noticed their approach. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“As good as I can be for now.”

“Good. Do you want to go somewhere first before we head back home? Food, maybe? Or something to drink?”

His stomach twisted at the mention of food. “Just a bottle of water I think. I don’t think I can eat anything right now.”

“Okay, we’ll drop by a convenience store on the way back.” Luka ran his hands through his face, and Martin could see the day’s events wearing the midlaner down as well. “It’s been a long day. Let’s just head back home and get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  R.M.L Codex **
> 
> The Nexus  
>  _Global Consensus Observation Station_
> 
> A special space that exists somewhere outside the normal bounds of reality, it serves as the sanctuary, observatory, and base of operations of the Summoner and their support team in the fight against the shard invasion. It houses the summoner’s riser as well as the shards currently in their possession, teleporting them to the summoner at will when they are required. The entity known as the Remote Monitor of Laws rules over this space, and the Nexus’ form, features, and layout bends to his will.
> 
> Additional details, features, and information on the Nexus remains undiscovered.


	12. Game 3: What Needs to be Protected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the shorter end this time, but I wanted to go for more frequent and consistent updates.

Martin couldn’t sleep that night.

Not with everything he had just learned.

Not with the decision looming over him.

He spent the better part of two hours wide awake on his bed, tossing and turning as he recounted every minute detail of their discussion with Remi today. The tightness in his chest was gone now, replaced by an emptiness he could jam his fist into. He suspected the rest of the team was in much the same state; no one really talked once they got back. No one really did anything. They just disappeared into their own thoughts. He swore he saw Miky mindlessly reading the same page over and over again on his browser about the creation of League of Legends. Jankos even forgot to stream, and there wasn’t even a hint of an argument between him and Luka.

It was like everyone decided to give each other space to digest it all without saying anything. For that, at least, Martin was grateful. He didn’t think he could handle another Perkz vs. Jankos argument, or even anyone speaking in his general direction. He knew Remi wasn’t the only one waiting for his decision.

But what was he supposed to say? He didn’t even know what  _ he  _ wanted to do, how was he supposed to balance that against what they thought he should do? And even then it was more than just them. The entire world was at stake, and that was a concept that Martin still had trouble getting a good grasp on. All that he knew was that it was a lot of responsibility, so much so that it nearly suffocated him earlier. Was he even ready to handle that?

Martin couldn’t sleep, so he just stopped trying to. He put on a hoodie, pulled up his socks, and snuck out of the apartment. Softly, he climbed the stairs towards the rooftop. Maybe the fresh air would help him think.

But now as he stood alone on the rooftop, cool air biting into his skin, Martin found his thoughts void and empty. All he could do was look upon the Berlin skyline and note the many lights that littered it. Sure, the silence was nice, but it was not at all helpful in sorting his thoughts and feelings out.

One chilling thought managed to creep up to his mind. For a moment, he imagined the skyline burning and crumbling, screams ringing out all across Berlin as the sky was tainted red. The image plunged a knife into his heart. Martin never really considered himself the heroic sort, or even a particularly empathetic person. So long as he and the people he cared about were fine, he was content and happy. But the ruin that Remi told him of was all encompassing, there would be no escape from it, and…

…and what was he going to do about that?

He sighed and craned his neck up to the sky, not finding a single star in sight. Not even the moon was out. There was only a vast, hollow darkness that greeted him. It was hard to believe that only a week ago he was having his best night in recent memory here. Spending time alone with Rasmus, gazing upon the shooting stars that seemed so beautiful at the time, everything felt so innocent and perfect. He should have known that it was too good to be true—

He wasn’t alone.

Perhaps he should have been startled, or maybe even on guard. But no, as soon as he felt the presence of someone else on the roof, he knew who it was.  Hello again. 

He looked to his right and found the blue form of the Keeper floating beside him. The statuesque entity gazed up to the sky as well, his cloak flowing down to his hips despite the cool winds and his tiptoes barely grazing the floor. This was the first proper look Martin had of the Keeper, and there was something undeniably elegant and aesthetic about his form. He was never one to appreciate art or sculptures or craftsmanship of any kind, but whoever or whatever decided the Keeper’s form must have been a great artisan.

Finally face-to-face with the one who had been haunting him this entire time, Martin found himself at a loss for words. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the Keeper, or even angry at him for everything that had happened this past week. A part of Martin was even grateful for all the help he got, but the entity standing before him was too much of an enigma for him to pin a proper feeling on. So of course, Martin went with the first question that popped into his mind.

“Not going to run away again?”

To his surprise, the Keeper ducked his head, put a hand to his sculpted mouth, and his shoulders began to shake. He didn’t make a sound as he did so, and it took Martin a few good seconds to realize that it was  _ laughing. _ Seriously?

The Keeper turned to him and shook his head. It’s strange, the lips on his face were carved and fixed to an impassive line, but Martin could somehow tell that he was smiling. Whatever he had expected from an entity charged with defending the remnants of a dead world until the end of time, this was  _ not _ it.  The first time we see each other face-to-face in a long time and you act like this.

“Oh, well, hi then?” The toplaner scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t imagine that their first confrontation would be so awkward. Or maybe it was just him? The Keeper certainly didn’t seem all that bothered. “I guess the first time we properly meet. Wait, you can understand me, right?” Never change, Wunder.

A nod.

“But you can’t speak to me?”

A shake of the head.

“Remi said something about only people who are sensitive to magic and that kind of stuff can see and hear you, is it because of that?”

A shrug.

“Okay then.” Truth be told, this was going way better than how Martin expected it too. He thought it would be more intimidating and maybe panic-inducing, but this was just kind of weird and not at all unpleasant. Martin extended a handout to the Keeper. “It’s nice to meet you, I guess.”  …

For a moment, the Keeper just stared at the outstretched hand, and Martin was afraid that he had offended the entity or something. But then the Keeper brightened and took the hand, shaking it. It was strange, Martin expected the Keeper’s hand to be hard and cool like marble, but somehow it was warm and soft. It had no business feeling like this, not when the Keeper looked like that. …never change, Wunder

He released his grip, and Martin now found it easier for the words to flow out. “This is weird. I’ve been trying to figure out what you are and try to speak to you for the past week, but now that you’re here, I don’t…” he pursed his lips, cheeks flush from embarrassment. “...I don’t really know what to say.”

The Keeper tilted his head to the side, but otherwise made no move to leave or imply any impatience. Eventually Martin managed to gather his thoughts and form a coherent question. “It was you last week, wasn’t it? You were here after the meteor shower, and you gave me Kayle.”

The Keeper nodded, overly eager and proud like how Martin imagined a puppy would do it.

“And at the studio too? You saved me and gave me the riser.”

The Runeterran moved to nod again, only to stop and place a finger on his chin. Floating forward, he reached out and tapped a finger on Martin’s chest. The Dane blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t—I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”  That it’s all you. You’ve had the power this entire time. I just helped bringing it to the surface

Once again, the Keeper’s expression did not change, but Martin got the distinct feeling that he was disappointed. In the end, the Keeper simply nodded once more.

“Why?” Martin asked, and all at once the words poured out of his mouth. “Why me? What do I have that makes me qualified to—to save the world? I’m just a guy who plays video games for a living.”

The Keeper did that head tilt thing again, and for a moment Martin thought that he was about to leave. Just disappear and leave the toplaner alone to his questions once more, but not this time. Instead the Keeper leaned forward, so close that the entity’s head almost came up to Martin’s chin, and reached out, tapping the Dane on his head.

Martin didn’t really understand what happened next, only that his view of the rooftop and the Keeper disappeared, replaced by flashes of images that went by just slow enough for him to know what they were but fast enough that he couldn’t properly understand them. Eating burgers with Miky, laughing at Jankos’ antics, ribbing Luka during draft meetings, tea with Caps, their victory at MSI, them standing before a snowbound mountain with a ring of light at the peak.

One after another the images came and went. Memories, that’s what they were. Pleasant remembrances that Martin cherished above all else. His heart warmed, and a smile slowly crept upon his face. He’d never say this to the team’s faces, but the past few years he spent on G2 were some of the best of his life, and it was all thanks to those idiots. If you knew the reason why, you’d know for sure that you’re the only man for the job

When the images ceased and Martin returned to the rooftop, he looked down and found the Keeper looking up at him with a twinkle in his ‘eyes’. Was that supposed to be the answer?  But for your own sake, I hope you never find out

“What…”

“Wunder?”

Martin jumped and spun around, finding a familiar face standing at the doorway. “Rasmus?”

The ADC was still in his pajamas, hair disheveled but not bleary or tired. He must have been in much the same state as Martin if he came out like this.

“Am I interrupting something?” Rasmus asked, a confused look on his face.

“I—” Martin turned back to the Keeper, only to find empty air.  _ Looks like that hasn’t changed just yet _ . “…I guess not?”

Rasmus went to him and inspected his face with squinted eyes. “Is everything okay? You look like you were zoning out.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I think… I think I just had a conversation with the Keeper.”

“Wait, really?” Rasmus spun around, eyes darting all over the rooftop. “Is he still here?” he asked, grasping at the air.

Martin shook his head. “No. He just left.”

“Oh.” The smaller man turned back to him, worry in his eyes. “Did it go well? What did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything, actually. He can’t talk, or maybe I can’t hear him.” Martin shook his head. “It’s weird, but I actually think it went well. I’ll tell you more about it later.”

The toplaner cleared his throat. “Anyway, what’s up? Do you need something?”

“I came up here to check on you.” Rasmus went over to one of the air conditioning units, hopping up and taking a seat on it. The smaller Dane looked straight into Martin’s eyes, and he found it difficult to tear away from that gray gaze. “How are you holding up?”

“Better,” Martin snickered to himself; a sick, loathing sound. “Not that that’s a high bar at the moment.”

Rasmus’ face darkened, completely unimpressed.

“Inappropriate?” Martin asked.

The ADC looked down and bumped his knuckles together. “A little. I was really worried about you. I  _ am  _ worried about you. I’m worried about you right now, actually.”

Martin’s mouth dried, and he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. He wasn’t used to this, being the one people looked after. He liked to think that he was the rock of the team; he didn’t get as emotional as the rest of the team can be at times, he didn’t take his losses as hard, and he certainly could handle his personal issues on his own.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Rasmus asked. “You don’t have to bottle anything up.”

_ The only thing in this bottle is spoiled milk, Rasmus _ .

“I’m fine,” Martin replied, sincerely this time. “I’m not at a hundred-percent, but I’m not on the verge of another break down either. Sorry you had to see that, by the way.”

“Don’t be,” Rasmus chided. “I’d probably react even worse if I was in your shoes. But I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried after everything that happened. Have you… Have you given Remi’s offer any thought?”

Martin huffed, letting his breath form a mist in the winter weather. “Yes and no. It’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about ever since we left the Nexus, but it feels like I’ve been going in circles non-stop.”

Rasmus hummed. “Maybe you can try talking about it? I talk to myself sometimes when I’m thinking really hard about something and I think it helps.”

“Is that why I keep hearing voices whenever you’re in the shower? Dude, I thought you were singing or something.”

The ADC laughed sheepishly. “Am I that loud?”

“A little.” Martin rubbed his arms, the cold air finally getting to him. “You sure you want to hear what I have to say? It’s pretty heavy, and not going to lie,  _ I _ don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Well then it’s a good thing that I’m not you.” Rasmus patted the spot next to him, and all Martin could think about was  _ fuck, I lost the bet _ .

Martin took a seat on the air conditioning unit, his shoulder a hair's breadth away from Rasmus’, and breathed out. “I don’t… I don’t really know where to begin.”

“Try making an argument for one side first,” Rasmus guided. “Why would you turn Remi down and go back to a normal life.”

“Well…” Martin racked his brain for a moment, and he voiced whatever came to mind. “Jankos has a point. I’m completely in over my head. I have zero training in this kind of stuff even if I did suddenly learn how to do kung-fu. If I fail, the world is going to end and billions would die. And to top it all off, I don’t even know for sure why I was chosen in the first place.”

“Is that last one really a point against?” Rasmus asked.

“Shouldn’t it?” The toplaner replied. “What if they’re wrong? What if I’m not the right man for the job?”

“You don’t know if they’re  _ not  _ wrong either,” his friend pointed out. “And it’s just my gut feeling, but I feel like we should trust them for now. They know more about this stuff than we do, and why go all this way to deceive us if they don’t want to stop the shards?”

“I guess…” What the Keeper showed him lingered at the back of Martin’s mind. Why would he show him his own memories?

“As for why I’d take up the offer…” he replayed those memories again in his head, latching onto that warm feeling. “Do you ever feel like there’s something that needs to be done that’s important? So important that you can’t trust anybody but yourself to do it?” Martin summoned the G2 riser to his hand and stared at his reflection on the blade. “I think that’s what I’m feeling right now. Regardless of whether or not I’m qualified to do this, knowing the stakes, I feel like I need to see this through and be a part of this. Even if someone out there could do this better than I do.”

He de-summoned the riser and looked away in shame. “Sorry, this isn’t a particularly logical argument, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Rasmus answered. “Your feelings are as valid as any other reason, maybe even more. I know I was going more on feeling than reason when I joined G2.”

“Wait, you were?”

“Well, yeah,” Rasmus shrugged. “The role swap was risky, there wasn’t any real evidence to say that it would work out and there’s still a good chance that it won’t, but I trusted Luka and I still do, so I chose G2.”

“Do you have any regrets?” the question slipped out before Martin could really consider it, and when Rasmus stared off into the distance, he began to dread the answer.

“A few,” Rasmus admitted. “Mostly about how I left, but I never once regretted joining G2. Even if we don’t win worlds this year, I’ll still think that it’s the right decision.”

“Was Fnatic  _ that  _ bad?” Martin asked in jest, but when the ADC went silent again he really began to curse his lack of filter. “Sorry, that’s out of line.”

“No, no, it wasn’t bad, it’s just…” Rasmus bit his lip and scrunched the bottom of his shirt in his fist.

“Hey,” Martin said, trying to make his voice as soft as possible. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

Rasmus relaxed, releasing the grip on his shirt. “Thank you. It’s nothing super bad or anything, I just… don’t like talking about it.” Now it was Rasmus’ turn to look away in shame. “Sorry, here I am not talking about my stuff when I’ve been trying to get you to talk about your stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Martin said with a pat to the back. “I was the one who decided to talk in the end. But the same goes to you. If you ever need someone to talk to…”

“Thank you, Wunder.” The ADC smiled and cleared his throat. “Anyway, enough about me. How are you feeling now? Did talking about it help?”

“Actually, yeah. I think it did,” Martin said, a tad bit lighter than he was when he first came up here. “I don’t know if I’m ready to make a decision just yet, but I think I have some of my feelings sorted out. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” Rasmus grinned, a sun in the night. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re the right person for the job.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. You’ve saved my life like three times now? From where I’m standing you’re more than capable of doing it.”

“That’s…” Martin could feel his cheeks melting from his blush and his heart aflutter. He wanted to shrivel up into himself in the best and worst way possible. “Thank you.”

“And on that note, there was actually one other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Immediately, Martin’s mood levelled. “What is it?”

“It’s about your decision. Whatever you do decide in the end, I promise I’ll support you on that.”

“What?” Martin wasn’t expecting this. “Why? What about what you want?”

“What  _ about _ what I want?” Rasmus asked back. “Remi’s right. Your decision should be the only one that matters here. You’re the one that the Keeper chose to be the summoner. You’re the one that’s going to be out there fighting and risking your life. It should  _ only _ be your choice.”

“But if I do decide to continue being the summoner you’re going to be in danger. All of you will. You were in the line of fire just a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, and you saved me then too.” Rasmus looked up at him, those gray eyes conveying every bit of sincerity in his words. “I trust you, Wunder, and I have faith that whatever decision you make is going to be the correct one.”

Martin gulped. “That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me.”

“And I’m certain I’m not wrong there.” He didn’t know how Rasmus could do it. How he could say those words with so much conviction and belief.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

He and Rasmus jumped. They turned around and found Luka, Miky, and Jankos by the door.

“How long have you three been standing there?” Martin asked.

“Long enough,” Miky said with a smug look on his face that told Martin all he needed to know. Honestly, the Slovenian was just the Worst.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rasmus asked as the three joined the Danish duo around the air conditioning unit.

“Looking for you two actually,” Miky replied.

“After you guys left the house, the three of us woke up and talked for a bit,” Luka explained. “I think we came to the same conclusion as Rasmus did. Whatever you decide in the end, we’ll have your back.”

“You’re serious,” Martin said, shocked.

“Yeah, we are. Rasmus is right, you’re going to be the one most affected by this decision, and I don’t know if you know it or feel it or not but you’re probably the one who knows best what the consequences are to either choice. More than us, at least. We trust you to make the right choice, whatever the choice.”

Martin turned to Jankos, who had been suspiciously silent up to that moment. “Even you, Jankos?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” At Martin’s look, the jungler cracked. “Okay fine, I know what you mean. I’d be lying if I said that I don’t prefer that you turn Remi down, but I can also realize that I am probably less qualified to make that decision than you are and that it was never my decision to begin with. Besides, what kind of dog jungler would I be if I didn't have my laners' backs?”

“Jankos I barely, if ever, see you in my lane.”

“Well maybe if you stop overextending every few minutes you’d get a gank or two.” Jankos cleared his throat. “But that’s not the point. The point is that we’re a team here at G2 Esports. We win together, we int together.”

“Maybe let’s try and not int this one?” Miky quipped, raising a brow at Martin when the toplaner turned to him. “What, are you expecting me to have a different answer? I was okay with letting you choose from the start, and who do you think got these two to sit down and talk?”

Luka and Jankos grumbled under their breath but made no attempt to deny the claim.

“You guys…” Martin’s voice cracked, and there was a wetness behind his eyes that he absolutely refused to show. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

He could feel Rasmus’ smile shining on his left cheek, proud and relieved. The ADC looked up to the sky, admiring the empty night, and said, “Hard to believe that just last week Wunder and I saw all of the shards falling here.”

“Who would have thought that you guys would be witnessing an alien invasion?” Jankos snickered, but then realization dawned on his face. “Wait, are they aliens? Can we call them aliens?”

Everyone ignored Jankos’ question. Rasmus ruffled his hair. “Ah, but it’s so doomed. I made a wish on them to win worlds and since they’re actually bad news it’s going to be, like, super bad karma for us.”

Luka guffawed. “You actually made a wish on them?”

“Yeah, both of them did,” Miky answered with a smirk.

“I thought that by wishing during a meteor shower, my wish has a higher chance of coming true, you know?” Rasmus explained as best he could. “But with what we know now it’s going to blow up in our faces. Now we’re really not going to win worlds.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Who needs shooting stars and meteor showers anyway? If they’re not going to help us then fuck them. We’ll just have to do it ourselves.”

As he said those words, things began to click into place in Martin’s head. What Rasmus said next would ultimately decide where the remaining pieces fell.

“What did you wish for, anyway?”

_ What I wished for _ … Was it  _ that _ simple? Had he been overthinking things? He was a man with very few wants and needs left in life, so his only choice should be to grasp onto the only wish he had left, right? The images that the Keeper showed him returned to mind. Those warm, treasured memories he kept close to heart. He wanted to see more of them. To see the future where they continued on.

Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to understand why the Keeper showed him those images, and when he put it that way, the answer seemed so obvious, didn’t it?

“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out,” Martin answered, coy and smug.

Rasmus pouted, and Miky replied for him. “Oh please, you’re just embarrassed that your wish is probably something sappy like—”

Martin interrupted Miky with a kick to the shin. He stretched and yawned, standing up as the Slovenian began hurling curses at him. “Okay, now I’m actually tired and want to go back inside. Let’s go, it’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah,” Jankos’ teeth clattered. “Don’t forget, we need to be ready for when Remi contacts us again. Did he leave his number by the way?”

As Rasmus, Jankos, and Luka went ahead inside first. Martin stayed behind and whispered to the still suffering Miky, “You won the bet, by the way.”

“The what?”

“The bet. Rasmus might have, uh, had me whipped while we were talking earlier. A deal’s a deal. We’ll talk about the transformation phrase later.”

Miky paled and laughed nervously. “Ah, yeah, that. Sure, we’ll talk about it later.” This isn’t going to be easy.

As Martin made to leave the rooftop, Miky already ahead of him and going down the stairwell, he felt a familiar presence. He stopped, turned around, and found the Keeper sitting atop the air conditioning unit they had all crowded around just a minute ago. The blue entity stared at him, and though his eyes were blank and lacking in details, Martin knew that the gaze was kind.  I know that you still have your doubts.

The Keeper waved at him. Martin smiled and saluted the runeterran before disappearing behind the door. But I know for sure that you can make it through this.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to everyone on the Dreamserver Discord who gave feedback when I first posted this there! I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you all :nemelove:


End file.
